Anticlockwise
by Casscade
Summary: Terrible things happen when wizards meddle with time, Miss Granger. Particularly to those caught in their way.
1. One

**ONE**

* * *

It started with a scream that shook the whole of Gryffindor Tower awake. It reverberated off the stonework in an explosion of echoing agony.

Hermione bolted upright in bed, heart thudding in the ringing silence that followed. She listened frozen, her hand ghosting across the smooth wood of her nightstand. Rain poured down on the endarkened castle, the only accompaniment to the hush of held breaths. A muttering unfurled throughout the dormitories, low fearful voices texturing the soundless dark.

Lavender found her wand first. The tip glowed to life, illuminating the pale faces of her roommates. Hermione snatched up her own from atop her pile of bedside books.

"What was that? You don't think one of those things could have gotten in here do you?" Lavender whispered.

"Or it could be Black again." Parvati said flatly from the shadows of her bed. "It came from upstairs."

They all looked towards the darkened ceiling. Dread gripped her, her mind's eye painting a picture of the boy's dorm in dripping red. It couldn't happen, it wouldn't, she would not allow it.

"Lavender shut that light off, we don't want to draw attention to ourselves," someone hissed from behind their drapes. There was a squeak and the light snapped off, plunging them into the waiting blackness.

Hermione rolled the smooth wood of her wand between her finger tips hearing nothing of the hushed conversation going on around her over the blood pounding in her ears. She touched it against the side of her bedside table. There was a single, phosphorus spark and the wood parted like water. She reached inside.

Her feet swung off the bed, and took her across the cold stone floor. The girls hissed their warnings, but she did not hear. She would not let anything happen to them. Even now, while they hated her. She would unmake it if she had to.

The heavy door screeched as she pushed it open, a shocking sound in the dead silence. The hallway was striped with wand-light that spilled from cracked quarters. The door opposite creaked open, Hermione glimpsed red hair and met a pair of familiar brown eyes across the hall. The tower held its breath, awaiting the next sound.

"Nobody's being murdered guys, was a nightmare, go back to bed."  
Hermione and Ginny both sagged, dread releasing its grip at the sleepy sound of Ron's irritated announcement. The tension unwound through the tower like a spring. There was an outbreak of muttering as doors clicked shut all round them. Ginny glared upwards for a moment and snapped her door shut.

Hermione floated back towards her bed. It seemed nobody felt like traversing the freezing corridors to report the incident, least of all her. She clambered back under her heavy blankets and let the darkness swallow her and what she had almost done.

But not before she carefully placed the Time Turner back in its hiding place.

* * *

"It scared the bejesus out of me," Ron said through a mouthful of bacon the next morning. Hermione, who was sat buried in a textbook a few spaces apart from the rest, tried not to listen too obviously. Neville was nodding along, or perhaps just nodding off beside him. "He was dead asleep, then he just sat up and screamed. I thought for sure Sirius Black had got back in." Ron was clearly enjoying himself, holding court despite looking as red-eyed as everyone at the table.

Harry had not turned up for breakfast, which was probably just as well, considering the number of cankerous Gryffindors presently hunched over their morning beverages.

"Oh he freaked out the whole tower, believe me." Ginny sank down next to her brother and snagged a piece of toast off his plate before he could swallow enough to protest.

"Hey! Well at least you weren't three feet away from him. It was horrible, he screamed as if he was being tortured," Ron said, pulling his plate out of reach. "Thing was though, when I pulled back his drapes he took one look at my face and burst out laughing."

"A natural reaction when confronted with your face Ronnykins!" one of the twins called from further down the table, Ron tried unsuccessfully to flick a bean at his brother's head.

"Why?" Ginny asked. Ron flushed.

"He said he had forgotten how stupid I looked, then he rolled over and went straight back to sleep."

Ginny snorted and Hermione smiled quietly into her cup of tea.

Ron had spotted her though, and he scowled down the table. "What you looking at?"

Hermione hurriedly fixed her eyes back on her breakfast and resolved to act like she couldn't hear him. She would not cry she told herself, her eyes suddenly hot and her face tight. She would not give him the satisfaction.

"Bog off Ron," Parvati said sitting down opposite her.

"I don't want her listening in on my private conversations," Ron declared sulkily. Ginny and Neville put their heads down, suddenly preoccupied with their breakfasts. She felt a familiar jolt of hurt even as she told herself she understood why they kept out of it.

"Stop being an ass, she was the only one who bothered to get up to check you lot hadn't been murdered last night," Parvati said, pointing her fork at him. Hermione felt her ears go red. She was grateful for the support, but she wished Pavati would just leave it alone. Ron muttered something under his breath. There was a thump and he scowled across at his sister even as he reached down to rub his ankle.

"Who was being murdered?" Harry asked, dropping down beside her Iike it was the most ordinary thing in the world. Hermione stared at him goggle eyed as he reached across her to snag a bit of toast. He gifted her with an easy smile. The sort she had not seen since the whole horrible broom business began. "Morning Hermione. You are looking great today," he said cheerily looking utterly unaffected by last night's interrupted sleep. Ron was staring open mouthed at him, a forkful of eggs frozen midway to his gullet.

"Harry!" he spluttered apparently unable to process this turn of events. He was not the only one. Hermione watched him wearily, waiting for him to remember and move towards those he still considered his friends..

"Hey Ron," Harry said waving his toast at the other boy, "what you doing all the way down there?"

The bubble of hope in her chest was too much. She stood up, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Ostracisation was hard enough, she would she would not be teased. She gathered up the portable parts of her breakfast and resolved to head to the library for their free first period.

Parvati lit into a confused looking Harry as she walked away, her head down. She tried to feel grateful, but everything hurt.

She was concentrating on keeping her face under control, so she didn't see the Slytherin before she ran right into him.

"Ew Granger, watch where you're going." Malfoy's sneer was almost a blessing as she felt her lip curl at the very sight of him. "You've gone and tainted me with your dirty muggleborn hands, I'm going to have to have a shower."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the repulsive teen. She gave a theatrical sniff.  
"I'm sure the rest of our class would thank me if you did Malfoy," she said sweetly. She savoured the slow look of comprehension that overcame his rat-like features and swept past before he or his goons could think of a reply.

She didn't get far, Harry caught her in the corridor, an outraged looking Ron trailing behind him.

"Hermione! Hermione stop." He caught her arm as she tried to walk faster, she swung around and he stepped back looking shocked.

"What do you want Harry?" she said, her voice high and tight. Her joy at her small victory over Malfoy gutting out at the thought of another devastating snub. Harry had the gall to look hurt by her reaction. He shuffled in place a little, looking back at a scowling Ron. She started counting to ten, telling herself that this time she would walk away even as her heart thumped and that painful hope rose once again in her chest.

"I, well I wanted to apologize," he said flashing her a smile as if it would make the last few months all better. His attempt at charm faltered at her expression but he forged ahead. "For being an ass about the broom. We've been really childish about it." Hermione felt her eyes swim with tears, despite all her promises to herself. She told herself it wasn't good enough, that a simple apology could not make up for months of hurt and loneliness. But his eyes held only sincerely. "You are so much more important than that. Please can we be friends again?"

The dam broke. Harry looked startled by the armful of weeping girl he suddenly had to deal with. After a frozen moment, Hermione felt his hand come up to pat her hair. Ron hurumphed loudly his hands in his pockets, he kicked the wall scowling.

"Hey it's okay," Harry said as her sobs descended into hiccups. "How about we go sit by the lake for a while? Soak up some sunshine before we have to brave the dungeons."

Despite everything Hermione still hesitated, the pile of work she had planned to do pressing down on her, even with her special arrangements there was never enough time.

Yet their reconciliation seemed fragile and a fear rose in her that even this small rejection could server it once again. Harry appeared to see something in her face, his eyes found hers and he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Come one Hermione, you've all the time in the world," Harry said. "Spend some of it on a morning in sun, make some memories worth cherishing. " She looked sharply at him, her hand fluttering over the place the time-turner lay. But he was not focused on this moment, his eyes had taken on a distant hollow look. She suddenly wondered if the night before had had more of an effect than his determined cheer would suggest. Ron met her eyes and for a breath they were united in worry. Then Harry seemed to shake the shadow from his memories, he grinned at them, suddenly buoyant again.

"Last one to the lake is a giant squid!" He jogging backwards down the corridor. It was probably the most carefree she had seen him all year, a look at Ron told her that he too was bemused by this strange change in mood. But he wouldn't look at her. It was as if Harry had sharpened the blade, the hurt cut deeper than it had in months. Yet she followed them as Harry shepherded them out into the morning sun.

She couldn't deny them. Ten year old Hermione had not had friends. She had read about them, even the most unpopular characters were given at least one. Yet she never seemed to have the knack of making people like her. The day an owl had granted all her secret daydreams she had been sure she had finally found where she fit.

It had only taken her till the end of the first week to realise that children were the same everywhere. Even here she was too eager, too desperate, too _annoying_ to be liked by anyone. It had been crushing to hear that word again from the boys she had tried to befriend on the train. She had fled, vowing to give up on friendship and retreat back into books and cleverness, just as she always had in the past.

Yet they had come for her, out of guilt perhaps, but they had come when everyone else had forgotten her. They had defended her. Then they had included her, made space, and suddenly she was part of a three as if it was the most natural thing in the world. They would probably never realise how much that mattered to her, or how badly their silence had hurt.

So she grasped greedily at any peace offering, desperate to reinforce the fragile bonds of friendship that had been so easily broken, and followed them into the sunshine.

* * *

They weren't the only one looking to get some air before Potions. The lakeside was fitted with their classmates and whoever else had a free period. Harry spotted Neville sitting with an open potions book and threw himself down on the grassy bank next to him.

"Wotcha Neville," Harry said.

Neville looked slightly startled by the sudden company. His eyes moved from the boys to her and his eyebrows rose but he made no comment on their reconciliation. As the boys rummaged through their bags he caught her eye, a smile full of happiness for her flashed across his kind face. Hermione felt a rush of affection for the quiet boy and she resolved to sit next to him in Potions.

"Just going over some things." Neville said, holding up his book. A Herbology book thick with bookmarks lay on the ground next to it. It had occurred to Hermione in the past that Neville with his extensive knowledge of magical flora should have an excellent framework for Potions. Hermione knew for a fact the only reason he was not completely failing the class was because his written work was actually very good. It was one of the extensive list of reasons why she despised Professor Snape. A person who took so much pleasure in ruining their students potential in their subject had no business in a classroom. Ron pulled a face at the sight of an open book. Harry tilted his face towards the sun, he seemed to be drinking in the sight of the sun-drenched castle aside the placid lake. The giant squid lazily catching bits of leftover breakfast tossed by reclining students to the sound of distant laughter.

"It's nice to have some peace and quiet." Harry said as they basked below the spring sky. Ron let out a huge yawn.

"It is, especially after last night," he said with his usual tact. " Everyone was convinced Black had got to you at last."

Hermione felt like kicking him as a shadow passed across Harry's face, displacing the quiet contentment that had rested there. But despite his flippant tone, Ron's eyes betrayed a genuine concern. If she was honest with herself, while she was glad to bask in Harry's sunny mood, she didn't buy it for a moment. It was not something that should be ignored, even if she really wanted to.

Still he could have given them a few more minutes.

"Sorry about that. Nightmare," Harry said looking away from them both.

"Anything to do with – you know," Ron asked tapping his forehead, Hermione saw Neville raise his eyes heavenward as he busied himself with his book.

Harry hesitated for handful of moments, Hermione knew he was going to lie before he opened his mouth, his eyes skating past them to look out over the lake.

"I don't really remember to tell you the truth," he said, pale fingers ghosted over his wand which was tucked behind his ear like an errant daisy. "Dreams can be funny like that sometimes."

"It wasn't funny," she said despite herself, the words forcing themselves out as the horrific silence of last night came rushing back. "I thought you...you."

Harry's smile dimmed. "I'm sorry, Hermione, if I scared you."

Hermione dredged up her own smile, trying to salvage his attempt at a good mood. Ron was at least smart enough to drop it. They shared another concerned look, at least until he remembered that he was mad at her. They sat in silence, but the awkward atmosphere could not survive under the warm sun. Hermione found herself inordinately grateful for taking Harry's advice, the stress of the last few months seemed to drain away. She was with her friends again and everything else seemed so small in comparison.

Even schoolwork, she thought ruefully.

The warm weight of the time-turner resting against her skin, what was the point of having all the time you wanted if you didn't spend some of it on days like this?

Their peace was disturbed by the unpleasant arrival of Draco Malfoy. Hermione groaned as he marched towards them Crabbe and Goyle trailing him like trollish shadows, he had probably had just about enough time to think of a comeback she thought waspishly as he opened his mouth.

"Finally grovelled your way back into the group Granger?" he said, looking slightly disappointed at her inclusion, he had probably thought up some really stinging comments about her having no friends, she thought, the side of her mouth kicking up. He turned on Harry instead, looking mildly insulted that the other boy had not even bothered to sit up. "Surprised to see you out on the grounds Potter, aren't you scared Black will get you? I hear you're having nightmares now."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled dutifully and Malfoy preened like an unpleasant peacock at the edge of the water. _One good shove,_ she thought, fingers itching with uncharacteristic temptation. Neville closed his book, looking like he would rather be anywhere else. Harry raised a lazy hand and gave the other boy a cheery wave. Malfoy looked like he didn't quite know what to do with that.

"Or perhaps you are off to see that overgrown chicken of Hagrid's before they chop its head off," he said eyes alight with vicious glee. That got Harry to pay attention.

"Buckbeak?" Harry said as if he had forgotten who he was. Hermione felt a jolt of hurt, anger followed it. Her nights alone in the library desperate to find a way to save the hippogriff apparently meant little to the two who had promised to help. Ron, halfway to scrambling to his feet, looked suddenly guilty, Harry did not, he sat up and fixed Malfoy with a mildly interested look.

"I heard he's not got that much time left." Malfoy continued, watching her face. "A dangerous animal like that that should be put down, with an axe."

Hermione didn't even realise she had flown at him until she felt her fist collide with the sharp edges of his eye socket. It wasn't a powerful punch, but it was completely unexpected and Malfoy went down like a sack of potatoes.

Ron and Neville dragged her back as Malfoy scrambled backwards up the bank.

"You filthy little barbarian," he howled at her.

He scrambled to his feet, knocking away the clumsy help of his goons. He groped in his pocket. The wand-tip inches from his face froze him in his tracks. Harry stared him down, looking mildly bored. Hermione had not even seen him move. They stilled, the tip of Harry's wand smouldered a sulphurs red. Hermione could feel the heat on her face. Harry didn't bother verbalising the threat. He didn't need to. Malfoy was not stupid, he lowered his hands and settled for shooting her a vicious look.

"You'll pay for that Granger," he said and he sounded like he meant it. But his eyes kept being drawn back to the smouldered wand.

She opened her mouth but Ron laid a hand on her arm. She looked at him in surprise but he was glaring at the Slytherin.

"Piss off Malfoy," he growled, showing more restraint than she usually considered him capable of.

Hermione could see Harry had unsettled the Slytherin, he was trying to edge away from him without it looking like a retreat. Hermione couldn't blame him, there was something unsettling about the flat disinterest in those green eyes. Yet Harry for his part appeared to have lost interest in the situation, he was staring out at the lake again, oblivious to the heat. Hermione had never seen a spell held at the wand-tip in that way.

But Malfoy would not be Malfoy if he let such a slight pass by. She had left a mark. Malfoy's eyes flicked to Ron's hand on her sleeve. They then flickered to Harry who was not paying attention. Hermione could almost see the moment he decided Ron was a easier target.

"Looking to pollute you bloodline even further Weasley?" he goaded, mouth twisted into a sneer. "I guess your family has finally sunk so low you would stoop to a mudblo-"

He jumped backwards laughing as Ron lunged. Hermione and Neville dragged him back by his robes, as Crabbe and Goyle lumbered forward, wands finally in their fat fists. Hands full, she shot a desperate look towards Harry.

Who was sprawled back out on the grass, wand behind his ear. Hermione could still feel it's heat though Harry apparently could not.

"It's too nice out for this," he said propping himself up on his elbows. "Why don't we just sit and enjoy the sun instead?"

The six of them stopped and stared at his patently mad comment, the brewing fight momentarily forgotten. They glanced at each other, united for a moment in complete confusion.

"Have the big scary Dementors finally addled your brain Potter?" Malfoy said, but bafflement robbed his words of any bite. Harry sat up, mouth widening as he took in the wrong-footed blond.

"Not at all, just seems too nice out for this nonsense," he replied sounding entirely sincere. "Why don't you just join us instead?" Ron looked like he'd swallowed a slug. Malfoy's face was a picture. Hermione considered the possibility Harry might have just accidentally cooked his brain with the spell still smoldering by his ear.

"She hit me!" he whined, jabbing an accusatory finger in her direction. Hermione noted with a complete lack of remorse that his eye was already developing what promised to be a brilliant shiner.

"You came looking for a reaction Malfoy and you got one, take it like a man why don't you?" Harry's friendly tone had not wavered, but there was an edge to his words that spoke of danger. Malfoy opened his mouth before seeming to change his mind.

"Whatever Potter," he muttered, shooting one more confused look at his smiling rival before sloping off. The smile twisted into something mocking as Harry stared after them. Ron let out the breath he had been holding and relaxed his clenched fists.

"Git. You can let go of me now Hermione, I can't believe you hit him!" Neville nodded behind him, looking deeply impressed.

"I can, in fact I'm pretty sure it was inevitable,"Harry said, wandering over. He threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly, "he's gonna be supporting that shiner for a week, don't ever change Hermione."

Hermione felt herself blushing, she folded her trembling hands into her robes, the last few moments catching up to her. A flood of fear overcame her. Malfoy could report her, his father was on the board of governors. What if she got expelled? She imagined turning up at her parents house, wand snapped, the wizarding world shutting its doors behind her. She tried to cut off her panicked thoughts before they could overcome her, but her mind raced with the consequences.

"Are you alright?" Neville had noticed. He looked at her eyes full of concern she nodded, eyes prickling.

"Merlin Hermione, that was brilliant, I've been wanting to do that from the moment I met him." Ron babbled on, he grabbed her hand and took a look at her stinging knuckles. "If you get the urge to punch any other pretentious pricks keep your thumb on the outside of your fist. You could have hurt yourself."

"I'll keep that in mind," she choked out.

"I'm sure if Hermione knew that decking Malfoy was the way back into your good graces she would have done it long ago." Harry said wandering over. Both Ron and Hermione went pink. Ron shuffled his feet though he didn't drop her hand.

"Yeah well... But anyway don't bait him Hermione, you've given him a reason to go after you and we can't always be around, not with your schedule."

Ron's mild panic swam out of focus, as for the second time that day tears spilled over. A moment later she was gathered up, her redheaded friend clumsily patting her back as she hiccupped on his shoulder. She wanted to tell him it was his defence not Malfoy's taunts that had got to her but it was all too awkward. Ron coughed, ears tinged red as he gently pushed her away. He turned to Harry.

"Blimey if I thought the only thing I had to do to get rid of Malfoy was to be nice to him I'd have… no… no I still don't think I could stomach it, you're in a weird mood today."

Harry gifted them an absent minded smile, eyes still on the retreating trio.

"Harry"

"Hmmm?"

"Your wand." The encased spell burned with its unsettling fire. Harry looked down.

"Ahh yes." With a casual flick of his wrist he sent the entrapped spell skimming across the lake in a shower of firefly light.

The lake boiled.

* * *

The dungeons were cold and humid despite the day outside. Hermione shivered as they descended the stone steps, the next two hours promising to be unpleasant. The classroom was already full as they slipped in. She took her seat next to the miserable looking Neville while Ron and Harry claimed their usual back bench.

The quiet chattering stilled as Snape swooped into the classroom.

"Wiggenweld's Draft," he said without preamble, striding to the front. He looked in a particularly foul temper that morning she thought as she hastily scribbled down the notes that had appeared on the blackboard.

"I don't suppose any of you cretins can tell me the uses of this potion?" he asked, Hermione's quill stilled but even she was not stupid enough to volunteer herself when he was in a mood like that. The other Gryffindors kept their eyes on their notes. Even the Slytherins didn't look like they wanted to push their luck. Snape prowled the line of bent backs, until he came to one that was not.

"Potter," he almost purred, Malfoy smirked from across the room as Snape descended on the daydreaming boy. "Since you do not feel the need to take notes perhaps you can tell me the uses of Wiggenweld's Draft."

Harry blinked at him and Hermione winced. Harry was normally better than this at keeping his head down in Snapes class. She tried mentally tattooing the answer on the back of his skull.

"It's a minor healing potion most commonly used to counteract the Draft of Living Death," he said. Ron choked a little. For a moment Hermione actually though her mental efforts must have worked.

"Congratulations for skimming your textbook Potter," he sneered, "I don't bother to do any further reading, or else you would know what else it could be used for,"

Harry shrugged looking not at all put out, even as Ron scowled into his parchment by his side.

"I know it as been misused to prevent people from sleeping for weeks, which can lead to hallucinations and general lunacy. The Wizengamot banned its use among Aurors after overuse lead to the Hindenburg disaster, though it's still fairly popular among the veterans of Voldemort's f- war."

Snape blinked apparently too surprised to sneer at this offering of information. Hermione stared at the back of Harry's head, even she didn't know most of that, it certainly was not in the textbook.

"A very rudimentary account of the situation Potter," he said at last. He didn't take house points though which was practically a standing ovation where Harry was concerned. He swooped down the isles in search for an easier victim to take his foul mood out on. His eyes alighted on Neville who was hurriedly writing down all that Harry had said.

"Longbottom!" he said, his eyes lighting with glee as Neville dropped his quill. "Tell me what are the properties of Belladonna and why do we add it to this potion?"

Hermione knew Neville knew the answer to this, he has once given her an enthusiastic lecture on the many properties of Belladonna one breakfast time. But in the face of Snape's gleeful malice he sat mutely, looking at his desk.

"Are you so slow you cannot even answer something as simple as that?" Snape said as the Slytherins sniggered behind him. Hermione clenched her fists as he sat head-down beside her, the familiar feeling of helpless anger settling like a lead weight in her gut.

"Does it not say more about you as a teacher?" There was a hush of indrawn breath as all eyes snapped back to Harry. Even the Slytherins looked shocked at his audacity. Ron gaped at him as if he had grown a second head. Snape looked unable to process what had reached his ears. His eyes narrowed.

"I do not waste my time pandering to the inadequacies of talentless fools Mr Potter," Snape said, his gesture encompassing Harry and Neville and most of the Gryffindor side. Neville gazed at their desk. Hermione could see his eyes watering. She saw the look on Harry's face when he looked over at them.

"No, that's not who you pander too." Harry's voice was quiet, but it carried, his gesture encompassed the Slytherin side, a few of which were looking slightly impressed with his nerve. Hermione closed her eyes even as the part of her that was unburdened by self-preservation stood up in thunderous applause.

The classroom was silent as a crypt. Snape stood for a moment staring down at Harry who was leaning back in the back legs of his chair, his unopened book still in his bag.

"Longbottem, exchange places with Weasley," Snape said, voice like velvet malice. The scrape of Neville's chair was the only sound as he slowly made his way to where Harry was sitting. Ron flashed her a look of pure worry but neither dared speak as he and Neville took their seats.

"Mr Potter, you appear to be so confident you can teach this class better than I that you don't even bother opening your book. You can complete the assignments without yours." A flick of his wand sent Harry and Neville's potions book flying across the room and onto his desk."Should your potion be anything less than flawless I shall place you both in detention from now until the end of term." He said, his eyes on Harry as the blood drained from Neville's face.

Beside her Ron muttered a nasty expletive. The sheer unfairness of involving Neville closed her throat. Across the classroom Malfoy looked like Christmas had come early. Harry looked at Neville and back at Snape.

He smiled.

* * *

"But how did you do it?" Hermione asked for what felt the fiftieth time. She should be doubling back right now, finding a corner to duck into to redo the hour in Ancient Runes, but she couldn't let it go. She had trailed them almost as far as the Great Hall already.

"Who cares? Did you see Snape's face? He looked like he'd swallowed a lemon." Ron crowed. Neville smilled beside him, still giddy with relief at not having to spend the rest of the term scrubbing flobberworm guts from the bottom of cauldrons under Snape's eye. She remembered Neville's bogget, it would have been tortuous for the shy boy.

"You really want to know?" Harry grinned conspiratorially at her. He leaned close and she found herself holding her breath. He drew it out for a moment, then breathed in her ear.

"Magic."

"Harry!" Hermione practically wailed. Harry and Ron laughed.

"It's good not to know everything Hermione, it gives your big brain something to do," Harry said, rapping her lightly on the forehead.

Hermione wanted to throttle that teasing look off his face. Ron winked at her though she was pretty sure he hadn't a clue Harry had done it. She didn't want to sound conceited, but she paid attention to how her friends did in class, often to compensate for them come study time. She knew Harry like most Gryffindor put a bare minimum effort into Potions, and with a teacher like Snape she couldn't blame them. He might have done some reading before class, maybe, but she doubted he had a single potion memorised.

He had to have cheated. Yet he hadn't looked like he had, he had almost tossed the potion together, hardly looking at even the rudimery information available on the blackboard while Neville looked on in mild despair. Even Snape had not been able to dispute the ruby hue and spiced smell that was identical to the example he had set up at the top of the class. He had given Harry a long measured look and vanished the whole thing without comment. At least Ron had saved his victory dance for outside in the corridor.

She felt the urge to peck more at the situation, yet she had another class to go to. She looked longingly towards the chatter and the food of the great hall.

"I think I dropped my quill." She backed away, feeling for the time-turner beneath her robes. She ducked round the corner and twisted, the sands of time rushing up to meet her.

She would figure it out.

* * *

She did not figure it out.

Hermione frowned at Harry from across the common room. He was chatting animatedly to Neville, it was about something exciting judging from all the gesturing. Neville seemed enraptured anyway. Happy too, Hermione thought with a sudden stab of guilt. He had never exactly been left out, but he had never quite fit into any of the tight friendship groups in the tower.

Ron was playing chess with Ginny by the fire, the scowl of concentration on his face indicating she was winning. Hermione tried to concentrate on her book. It was old and she noted wryly, much read. The faded cover read 'Remote Reading and other Sneaky Charms for the Resourceful School-Wizard.' At least it did to her, to the rest of the common room it read 'Advanced Arithmancy.'

There was not way she would be caught reading such a book in public.

She sighed and closed it with a snap. Most of the cheating charms listed, the ones that might actually work anyway, required a use of a wand and Harry had not touched his the entire class. Hermione doubted any of these old-fashioned spells would have slipped past Snape, in any case, the book looked like it had been in the library for at least a century and was undoubtedly well known to the teachers.

She rubbed her aching eyes. It was ironic that the only thing the time-turner could not give her was more sleep. She could not risk sleeping in the tower when also in class and empty classrooms never seemed to stay empty for a reliably long time.

Tossing the useless book aside, she reached for her actual Arithmancy book. Harry could have his small victory over Snape, she decided. He had had few enough reasons to feel happy this year, if this was what snapped him out of the dark mood that had overcome him since he had discovered the truth about Sirius Black, then so be it. Besides she thought to herself, what would she do if she found out how he had done it, report him? She knew she would not, it was cowardly, but she did not want to be left out in the cold again.

Harry laughed at something Neville said. Neville, pink faced next to him, looked flushed with pleasure. Such a small thing she thought.

* * *

"Scabbers is missing." Hermione looked up from her homework. Ron was attempting to keep the accusation out his voice and failing badly. She felt her stomach drop as his words sunk in.

"Are you sure?" she asked, then mentally winced as Ron's worried expression deepened into a frown.

"Course I am, I've ripped the whole bloody place apart, he's nowhere! Where's you're cat Hermione?"

"He's not here," Hermione said quickly, glad that it was true. "He's been out since last night. When was the last time you saw him?"

"Last night."

"Does he ever leave your room?" Hermione asked trying not to sound defensive. It was a delicate subject. Personally she thought that Ron should keep Scabbers in a cage of some kind, hers was not the only cat in the tower, but it would be an inadvisable time to bring that up.

"Not since your ginger demon decided he was on the menu," Ron said. Hermione chose to ignore that. He was not wrong that Crookshanks appeared to have it out for Scabbers. She had tried to keep him away from the boys dormitory but he was fiendishly good at getting around her charmswork. In fact, it seemed to make him all the more determined to go where she didn't want him to.

Ron had never tried to find a solution other than yell at her about it. Not that that would matter if Crookshanks had finally eaten him. For all his moaning about his manky rat, he had a special fondness for him. He would blame her, she thought with a sinking feeling and their newly repaired friendship would rupture once again.

"Let's search," Hermione said, a desperate determination seizing her. "Maybe he's just fallen asleep somewhere."

Ron did not look convinced by the joined her anyway. They worked their way down from the boys dormitories, but the rat was nowhere to be found.

"What are you guys doing?"

Hermione popped her head up from between two chairs to see the twins peering down at her. She got up, brushing carpet-crud from her knees.

"We're looking for Scabbers," she said, looking across at Ron who was on his hands and knees trying to peer under a heavy clawfoot armchair.

"Did that cat of yours finally put it out of its misery?" Fred, or perhaps George, said loudly. Hermione shot a worried look at Ron whose face was as dark as a thundercloud.

"We've not seen him since yesterday, have you?" Hermione said hurriedly.

"Never liked that rat, gave me the creeps," one of the twins said, scratching the back of his head with his wand. "Used to always find it in the bathroom when I wanted a shower."

"Scabbers just likes warm water," Ron hollered from the other side of the room.

"Really your cat would have been doing the world a favour," possibly-Fred stage whispered. They saw the look on her face and decided on a little mercy.

"Ok, ok," maybe-George said. "I've been wanting to try this spell for a while now anyway. " _Accio Scabbers!"_

There was silence as they listened. Then something rattled around the corner from the boys dormitories. A large bell-jar with a rat inside skidded to a stop in front of them. Scabbers had been suspended into the air, he rotated gently, his libs twisted to the point of pain, his face contorted in silent agony.

They stared down at it. Even the twins were speechless. Ron paled, and then purpled.

"Scabbers!" he tried to rip the lid of the jar off but it was stuck fast. The rat looked unconscious, it did not move as it's cage was yanked this way and that.

"Careful Ron you could hurt him," Hermione said shakily. "He must be enchanted, a statis spell of some kind."

Ron rounded on his brothers. "This is not funny, let him go!"

The twins looked at each other. "It wasn't us," they said simultaneously. Hermione believed them, they looked as disturbed as she felt.

"You knew where to find him!"

"We used a summoning spell, Ron," George said looking a bit ill. "We aren't that good at it yet so he must of been quite close. That's all we know."

They all turned to look at the stairs leading to the boys dormitories.

"Who would do this?" Ron said, he sounded completely lost, his face crumpled in the face of such cruelty. Hermione's heart ached for him as he wrapped his hands around the jar.

"We'll find out," Fred said grimly, "this is far beyond a joke."

"Have you fought with anyone lately?" Hermione asked, her stomach turning. Scabbers could not move, he could only blink helplessly up at them.

"Nobody in the tower," Ron said, "we need to take him to McGonagall."

Just then the portrait hole opened and Ginny, pink as a rose, came through. Harry's laughter followed her in as the portrait hole slid shut behind them.

"Hi guys," Harry raised his hand in their direction. His attention was focused on Ginny, who looked beyond the power of speech. She nodded enthusiastically at whatever Harry had just said. The poor girl was going to take weeks to recover from that smile directed at her.

"Harry."

Harry looked up at Ron's tone. His eyes focused on the bell-jar in Ron's arms and the smile dropped from his face. He was across the room in three powerful strides his face darkening with every step.

"What do you have there, Ron?"

Ron mutely held out the jar for Harry to see. Ginny gasped behind him, her hands flying to her mouth. Harry stared at the suspended rat. Hermione looked into his still face and her breath caught. Cold depthless fury pooled behind his eyes. The jovial mask of the last week swept away in a rush of hate that overtook even Ron's dawning anger.

He blinked and the look was gone, tucked away out of sight. He looked up at Ron, his concern evident.

"Where did you find him?"

"Fred summoned him," Ron said, his voice choked, "he came down from the boys dormitories."

Harry nodded, eyes still on the rat. He touched the jar gently. There was something ugly under his carefully controlled expression, Hermione thought, glad he was holding back for Ron's sake.

The poor animal's plight made her furious, her mind was already drawing a list of suspects, short though that list was, but Ron just looked devastated. He clutched the jar, unable to tear his eyes away from his pet.

Harry touched his shoulder gently. "We shouldn't try and open it, it could hurt him."

"We should go to McGonagall," Hermione said as calmly as she could manage.

Ron nodded, carefully cradling the jar. They drew up around him and made their way towards McGonagall's office.

* * *

"And you found him like this?"

They all nodded. McGonagall's office could barley accommodate all of them. They crowded around her desk as she peered into the jar, her face tight with anger.

"This is a grave matter, animal cruelty such as this goes far beyond a schoolyard prank," McGonagall said, "the perpetrators will be punished I assure you."

McGonagall looked over her spectacles at the rat. They watched expectantly as she tapped the glass with her wand, muttering spells under her breath. A small frown appeared between her eyes as they seemed to have no effect.

Ron fidgeted as McGonagall noted something down on a price of parchment.

"The jar appears to be recently enchanted," she said almost to herself. "Have you perhaps had any disagreements with some of the older boys?"

"No!" Ron said. McGonagall nodded absentmindedly, her focus taken completely by the jar.

"Yes it would be unlikely, this is beyond what we teach at Hogwarts."

She cast another spell, the light washed of the rat, it glowed green. McGonagall's eyes shot up to her hairline. She cast it again, and then another series of spells in quick succession. Whatever they told her made her sit back in her seat, looking deeply troubled. She opened her mouth and the appeared to change her mind.

"How long have you had this rat?" she asked instead.

"It's been in my family near eleven years," Ron said.

"And it's a common garden rat, not a magical breed?"

"No he's just a rat- will he be okay professor?" Ron begged his voice cracking. Scabbers looked no better than before her battery of tests, she had yet to even attempt to remove the jar that entrapped the poor creature. In fact she looked like she would rather not touch it at all,

"His life is presently in no danger Mr Weasley." McGonagall said briskly. She stood up abruptly and gathered her notes. With a flick of her wand the jar rose to hover by her shoulder.

"I must go and consult with Professor Dumbledore. For now, please return to your common room. I will bring you any news."

They watched her hurry off without another word. Ron watched her go, setting his face against the tears that gathered in his eyes. The twins placed a hand each on their little brother's arm, they did not look their usual joking selves, in fact they looked dangerous.

Hermione trailed them back to the common room, listening with half an ear to the traded speculation and plots of revenge. Something was bothering her. It was Harry's face she thought staring at the back of his head as he listened to Ron's ranting. She had seen anger on his face, hatred even at the sight of what had been done to Ron's pet.

What she hadn't seen was surprise.


	2. Two

**TWO**

* * *

"He's looking at you again."

Hermione turned to glare at her partner, Lavender was not exactly a paragon of subtlety and her whispers tended to travel.

Luckily Professor Sprout was happy to accommodate a certain amount of cheerful chatter in her classroom. She flicked her eyes up just in time to see Malfoy's drop studiously to his Admorsus plant. The fading a green smudge on his cheekbone was the only reminder of the week before.

Hermione frowned across at his bent head. So far there had been no retaliation, not even a scolding from Snape. Which meant he'd not reported her for assaulting him. He had threatened all sorts of things last week. This week he had apparently taken up a new tactic.

Staring.

She couldn't say it wasn't effective. Malfoy was usually all bluster. She could deal with his usual arsenal of threats and insults. This steady contemplation was new. Now there was something anticipatory in his eyes that made her skin crawl.

She had wondered if Scabbers had been a twisted form of revenge. Ron had posited the idea when speculation had been running thick and dark, but for the life of her Hermione could not think how Malfoy could have hidden the rat back in the tower. Besides she had a pet too. She tried to banish the image of Crookshanks cursed and stretched out like a twisted trophy from her mind's eye.

"Watch it!" Lavender hissed as she almost beheaded their specimen. The flower snapped back at her, its sharp petals nearly taking off the tips of her fingers.

"Sorry," she muttered. Lavender caught her sneaking another look at Malfoy's bent head and smirked at her.

"Maybe he liiiiikes you," she trilled at her.

"Don't make me hurl," Hermione said shortly, concentrating pointedly on their plant.

"She's not wrong-not about that," Parvati said as Hermione glared murderously at her, "he is looking at you though. Didn't you floor him last week? You should watch yourself Hermione, he's not likely to let that go and considering you've not been hauled up in front of his dad and the Board of Governors yet, I'd say he wants to retaliate without interference."

Hermione nodded grimly, she doubted he had anything to do with Scabbers, but she had dented Malfoy's ego. Even the Slytherins had been sniggering at him once the story had gotten around. He was not going to take that lightly.

They glanced towards the boy who simply held her gaze for a moment before dropping his eyes back to his work. He didn't even glare, it was just a look. Nothing she could complain about. She shivered. She had never thought Malfoy smart enough to go for psychological torture.

"Or he could just fancy her."

"I punched him _last week_ Lavender."

"Boys are weird, maybe you just got his attention"

"Do you have a thing for rodenty features or something?" Parvati asked, Lavender pulled a face.

"Ugh no thanks, he might grow into that nose though, you never know puberty can work miracles."

The boys looked over as they collapsed in a fit of giggles. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at them, this time Hermione stared back. His lips twisted into what could almost be called a smile.

"Creep," Parvati muttered affecting a full body shudder.

Laughter was only a moment's reprieve. Parvati shot her a sympathetic smile. Hermione was grateful for their support. They got it. The boys didn't really understand why she could shrug off insults and curses yet such a small thing could have her strung so tightly. Harry had all but told her, kindly, that it was all in her head.

Of course they did not have the whole picture. They walked her between lessons, but they could not walk her between the lessons she turned-back for.

* * *

He shouldn't be here. Or more accurately, he never had been here before and Hermione was in the library a great deal. She stared sightlessly at her book, at the same page she had been glaring at for the last ten minutes. She risked a glance up.

Malfoy sat, no, _reclined_ on one of the comfortable window seats, reading a heavy leather bound book like he had every right to be there. Which he did.

She couldn't concentrate, her whole body was tensed as if waiting for a curse to catch her in the back the moment she let her guard down. The comforting, dusty silence of the deep parts of library suddenly felt oppressive. Her quietly claimed alcove too far from the protection of other people. This was her sanctuary he had no right, _no right_ to invade it.

He wasn't even doing anything objectionable.

Except existing.

Hermione spent a lot of time alone these days, it was the nature of the time-turner, folding the hours back on themselves left her with time she could not share with her friends because she had already spent it with them once.

She had a number of places she could go during her folded hours, the library being chief among them. There was no danger of anyone discovering her deep within the labyrinthine shelving.

Or so she had thought before this week. She didn't know how he managed to keep turning up during her folded time. He wasn't doing anything, in fact most of the time he completely ignored her.

Yet he kept finding her.

Sometimes she'd feel his eyes on her. Sometimes she would look up and glare. He would smirk and go back to what he was doing.

The space between her shoulder blades itched. She wondered if she would be able to dodge spellfire from this range. Almost certainly not. Malfoy had her at his mercy.

She hated how effective this twisted little game of his was. Made more so by the fact she could not rely on her friends protection, not without exposing the time-turner.

She was alone.

In the silence he turned a page, and smirked.

* * *

"You need to help me with this."

The boys looked up as she dumped the stack of heavy books beside their chess match. She tried not to sound accusatory, but she had turned back for three sets of classes and one set of homework today. She refused to work on it alone any longer.

"What is it?" Ron asked, looking at the stack of books in trepidation.

"Buckbeak's case," Hermione said. Guilt crawl across Ron's face. Harry lent back in his chair.

"Have you found anything of use?" he asked, his casual tone made Hermione want to _spit._

"Not really," she ground out, "a few precedents where the animal was granted clemency or the ruling was overturned but nothing that will stop a determined spiteful _asshole_ like Malfoy."

"Woah Hermione we'll find something," Ron said holding his hands out.

"Will we? Because I've been looking for a month and I've not come up with anything," she said, sinking into a chair, trying to rub the deep weariness from her eyes.

"Well now you've got us," Ron said, Hermione bit back a few choice comments. She was tired and her feelings lay close to the surface. They were here now and that's what mattered. Ron picked up a heavy tome and went nearly cross-eyed at the paragraphs of tightly packed litigation.

"I can't tonight," Harry said. "I've something I need to do." Hermione stared at him, a wave of hurt crashing over her. "Sorry," he added.

"What could you be needing to do at this time of night?' Hermione asked, hating how her voice went high and shrill.

"Something," Harry said, completely unmoved, "you can have me the whole weekend, if it's needed." Whatever new leaf Harry had tried to turn over last week had largely crumbled in the face of Scabbers discovery. He had been almost more upset about the matter than Ron had, especially as the days stretched on with no news as to Scabbers' condition. Hermione could not shake the feeling that he blamed himself for the situation, though why she could not guess.

His face softened as he read the look on her face. He reached forward and touched her arm. Hermione looked away.

"Hey Hermione." She looked up, knowing everything would show on her face. "Buckbeak will not die. I promise you, I won't let that happen, ok?"

"But-"

"I swear it, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, because there was nothing else she could do. Harry smiled at her, there was a certainty in his eyes that she couldn't bring herself to believe in. She and Ron watched in silence as he retreated up the stairs.

It was late- later when something made Hermione look up. A swish of cloth in the quiet common room. The sensation of air moving when there was nothing to move it. Hermione put her head down and went back to her book and listened.

The portrait hole opened, and then closed.

She was not waiting up, she told herself as the fire burned lower and lower. Ron had long headed to bed. Harry was entitled to his privacy. He clearly had not wanted to share whatever was so important to him. It had to be important, she thought, hurt gathering in her chest, otherwise he wouldn't have blown her off like that.

She was not waiting up.

She was just finishing some schoolwork.

The sky was lightening when he returned. Hermione had been dozing in one of the large fire-facing armchairs when the portrait hole moved. She jolted awake, catching the heavy book on her lap before it slid to the ground. She listened as his weary tread passed her hiding place.

A strange smell followed him. Hermione frowned, trying to place it.

* * *

Footsteps behind her. Hermione walked faster, cursing the stack of books occupying her arms.

The corridor was deserted she turned the corner and her heart dropped, so was the one after that. Everyone was at lunch. She tried to tell herself she was being paranoid. That a week of waiting for the other shoe to drop had stretched her nerves to breaking point.

She ducked behind a statue and listened, heart pounding as the footsteps grew closer. If it was nothing they would pass on by...

They carried on. Hermione stared at the back of some oblivious student as they wandered their way down the corridor. Her hammering heart refused to slow until he was out of sight.

Hermione wanted to scream. Or curse a certain smirking blond git.

She took a deep breath, rounded corner and ran straight into the boy she had hidden from coming back the other way.

"Woah there," the unfamiliar Hufflepuff said cheerfully, holding out a hand to steady her, "corridors cordoned off, can't get through."

"What, why?" Hermione asked.

"Don't know, smells bad though, probably Peeves or the Weasley twins." The boy wandered off down the corridor humming to himself.

Hermione went to follow him but curiosity got the better of her. She turned back up the deserted hallway. The end of the seventh floor was cordoned off by thick green rope. There was nobody there right now, but Hermione remembered a number of teachers had been missing from the breakfast table that morning.

The remains of a large tapestry hung from one wall. It must have been beautiful Hermione thought with some anger as she beheld the charred remains. She tried to recall what it had looked like but to her shame could not. She hoped the subjects had escaped at least.

Dark twisting shapes had imposed their own design across it and the walls around it. A flower of spellfire that had patterned the wall in soot and heat-split stone. She could almost see contorted creatures painted in soot and shadow.

Hermione flung a sleeve over her mouth as the smell hit. Sulphur hung heavy in the air, rotten and warm and familiar.

Hermione backed away from all the questions she suddenly didn't want the answers to. Harry's strangeness had been a curiosity, now it felt like trespassing where he didn't want her to go. She turned and resolved to simply ask as she ought to have in the first place.

A movement caught her eye.

There was little decoration in this part of the hallway aside from the destroyed tapestry. The next painting was a way back down the corridor. She had thought it an empty landscape. She leaned closer, her nose almost touching the oils.

"Ahh!"

Her startled leap backwards sent her crashing to the ground. From her prone position she gazed up at the confused and slightly singed troll that was staring at her.

In a pink tutu.

"Um hello." She tried calming her hammering heart. The troll looked quizzically at her. It helped that it was painted, through the strange brushwork suggested it had originally been rendered in a different medium than the one it was currently occupying. Her eyes were drawn back to the singed tapestry.

Of course, how could she forget. Barnabas the Barmy and his dancing trolls.

A choked giggle escaped her. Ron had always taken great pains to point it out on the rare occasions they were up there. She was pretty sure it was his favourite bit of artwork in the entire castle.

"Was that your tapestry?" she asked, the troll nodded mournfully, the small silver tiara bobbing along with his great head. "What happened to it?"

The troll mimed the opening of a door and flailed his massive hands in what she took to approximate spellfire.

"Who did it?"

The troll held up two meaty fingers.

"Hang on, there is no door near the portrait." There wasn't, just a long expense of featureless grey stone. Hermione frowned. Which was odd.

"Oh I'm sorry." The troll had been miming something with his hands again, walking them backwards and forwards across his palm. He ended his charade with an exaggerated poof of the fingers. "I'm afraid I don't understand." Hermione said. The troll shrugged and hitched up his sagging tutu. He looked a little lost, she suddenly hoped he wasn't the only one to have escaped the fire. Trolls were easier to feel sorry for when they weren't trying to bash your brains in while you were sobbing on the loo.

She took a few steps closer to the flowering of soot and melted stone. A single gout of fire, big and very, very hot. She backed up until she felt the featureless stone of the opposing wall. She raised her wand arm.

It was too close. The diameter of the damage too big. A person standing here would have boiled. Of course, there were such things as flame-freezing charms but still you would have thought they'd have aimed down the corridor.

Hermione frowned, but she found no answers.

* * *

She didn't ask her questions either. Harry sat next to her at dinner, his eyes gleaming. He was in fine form tonight and she was loath to break that good cheer. She sat quietly and listened with half an ear as he speculated with Ron about the state of the Cannon's current chances in the upcoming season, (poor apparently.) Ron was defending his beloved team with vigour as Dumbledore stood.

The Hall quietened in that magical way that required no magic at all. Ron looked around in confusion as his latest point was made loudly to a hushed hall.

"Students, a moment of your time. An incident occurred on the seventh-floor last night" he announced to the listening hall. "Damage was caused by a particularly wild and dangerous form of magic."

The silence was a solid thing as his gaze pressed down on each and every one of them. Dumbledore held them like that a moment, not a murmur was heard in the entire hall.

"Fiendfyre is incredibly difficult to control, as our perpetrators discovered. It is forbidden within these walls for that reason, for any student caught practicing such spells I am afraid the consequences will be dire." His countenance softened. "However, should any student have something upon their conscience, they will find that we can be understanding."

Whispered speculation fluttered around the hall. Hermione did not look at the boy next to her, who had gone so suddenly still.

"Due to the advanced and destructive nature of this curse, the Minister has insisted that a sweep of the castle be done to root out any possibility of Sirius Black having gained entrance once again." He raised a wrinkled hand to silence renewed muttering. "As such the Dementors will be present in Hogwarts during tomorrow morning's classes. Chocolate will be provided to all students and Madam Pomfrey will be on hand to treat those particularly affected."

He sat down to an explosion of noise.

"Un-bloody-believable!" Ron shouted over the roar of the crowd. "So much for never stepping foot in Hogwarts."

"I don't think he had a choice," Hermione said, her voice lost amongst the crowd. Dumbledore suddenly looked very old, his bent form sitting small in his chair. Hermione put her head down and did not engage with the complaints and outlandish speculation that flew thick and fast as she picked at her food.

Harry didn't say a word.

* * *

They came during Potions. She expected some form of nastiness from Snape, but he walked down the line of students, tossing chocolate frogs onto each desk without comment.

The creeping cold found them first, frost crawled up the side of her cauldron. The class stilled, each child drawing into themselves as the shadows of despair came for all.  
 _  
Alone. No friends. Who would be friends with you? Who could stand someone like you? They will leave you know, once they're sick of your nagging and whining. They will wonder why they ever wasted time on you in the first place.  
_  
Breath in. Breath out. It's not true _._

They already have once, you were less important than a broom to them.

Her breath crystallized in the air. Hermione wiped the silent tears from her cheeks as the soft sounds of sorrow buffeted her from all sides. Some sat silent, drawn deep into their darkest memories. Some sobbed softly, head in hands. Harry stared straight ahead, his eyes burning.

Then the memories came.

 _Harry, thin and pale, lying still on a hospital bed... Ron, his hair red with blood as they left him amongst the broken chess pieces...  
_  
She looked towards where Snape sat silent, his dark eyes focused on the distant past. Something delicate and destroyed fell from his fingers. A scattering of lily-white petals against the dark desktop.

It wouldn't stop.

 _How long until they realize what little there is of you worth treasuring..._ No.. _. You who places rules above loyalty? Betrayer. Know-it-all.. Tattletale. How easy it will be to replace you. You are only a convenience to them._ It's not true _. They aren't really your friends._

Malfoy was death-white. His teeth clenched with a grinding of bone. His hands shook where they gripped the desk. Hermione could feel her nails carving small red crescents into the flesh of her palms.

 _You who will truly never belong. However hard you work little muggleborn, Hogwarts is not yours to keep. You can turn time but you can't hold back these days forever. You will be left alone again before the end._

Suddenly Hermione could breathe again, the darkness lifted. She stared at her desk, her eyes swimming. Her breath came in painful ragged gasps. The shadowy nightmares had gone as quickly as they arrived. Neville sat at the desk next to her, silent tears rolling down his face. Ron had his head in his hands. All around classmates drew themselves sobbing and shaking from whatever pit the Dementors had cast them into. Snape sat for a long moment. Then he stood abruptly.

"Eat," he said, tossing more chocolate at those who looked worst affected, even Harry. She picked hers up with shaking fingers and tried to banish the darkness that always resided inside her head

* * *

"It's been days, yet whenever I ask McGonagall just says they are working towards a solution," Ron said to Harry as they walked between classes.

It had been the main topic of conversation this last week, the news had raced around the tower. The Gryffindors were looking at each other in a new light, wondering which of their number could do such a thing. Ron had made up a list of every disagreement he had had within the tower the year, however minor. The twins had made a number of pointed enquiries about the matter, but the truth was Ron was well-liked, there was no reason anyone could think of for such retaliation.

"McGonagall locks her door when she sees me coming now," Harry said, scowling. He had at least dismissed Ron's Malfoy theory, though he had no other credible suspects. Hermione watched him run an agitated hand through his hair. She could not shake the feeling there was something he was not telling them about the matter.

She had not had the courage to ask Harry about it. She should, but there was something about him these days that discouraged such questioning. Then there was the fiendfyre and the smell of sulphur. She should report it to Dumbledore, but she wouldn't. Sometimes loyalty won out over morality. That's what she told herself anyway.

She tried to shake that thought, Harry would tell them if something serious was going on. He would, she told herself trying to forget the smell of something rotten.

The quiet subdued atmosphere left in the Dementors wake had taken days to wear off. Students shuffled between classes and little of the usual chatter chimed in the hallways. They had heard no more about the fiendfyre, the next time she went up there it had all been cleared away, the stone smoothed over and a new portrait in place. The portrait had known nothing of the matter and all the others along that corridor had been strangely silent. She had looked for Barnabas and his dancing trolls but none seemed to know where he had taken refuge.

"Perhaps we should-" Harry broke off to the sound of laughter. Hermione looked for what had caught his attention. Across the courtyard a couple of Ravenclaw girls were levitating a bunch of school-things into a tree. A girl with long blond hair and Ravenclaw colours stood nearby. She was not making any move to stop them. Hermione might have thought it was all just a game if not for the laughter, it had a ring of cruelty that was all too familiar to her.

"Thats Loony Lovegood," Ron said, stopping to watch, "Ginny knows her, she's a bit weird." Too weird to be called a friend, Hermione noted, or to offer help.

"What's her actual name?" she asked. She recognised the girl vaguely, she had occasionally seen her with Ginny, but mostly alone.

"Luna," Ron said, looking a little shamefaced. Harry shot her a approving smile, then he turned back a scowl gathering on his face.

Memories of her childhood prodded her to intervene but she hesitated. She knew all too well that the bullying often got worse after a well meaning intervention. Luna did not look particularly bothered by her housemates nastiness. She watched them, head tilted to one side as if they were a particularly interesting species of bug.

Harry brushed past her, apparently unburned by her dilemma. He was headed straight towards the gaggle of girls. Hermione sighed, but Harry was only half way across the courtyard before the laughter turned to outraged screams.

The girls were dragged off their feet as their shoes quite suddenly grew hundreds of little legs and propelled them squealing out of the courtyard and down the hill towards the lake. It was an impressive bit of transfiguration, especially on six shoes at once.

Hermione looked around for the girl's saviour. Instead she saw Malfoy leaning over the upper walkway, a vicious look on his face. Hermione felt herself tense as she spotted him the rolling ball of stress his presence caused her sinking into her gut. She felt her lip curling and she glared at him, it was upsetting that he could manage to do that to her by just existing in her general area. Still, she couldn't help feel a nasty sort of satisfaction as the squealing ended in a splash.

"Even when he does something decent he can't help but be a git about it" Ron said. The whole courtyard was laughing. They might not have been inclined to help but they appreciated a well executed comeuppance when they saw one. She watched Malfoy preening in front of his sycophants and couldn't decide which was more reprehensible.

"I think he just saw an opportunity to be nasty," Hermione said. Luna was giving him much the same look she had given the girls, but he appeared to not consider her worthy of further notice.

He threw Harry a smug look, clearly pleased to interrupt his little rescue. Harry narrowed his eyes and flicked his wand towards the tree. Luna's things floated gently to the ground next to her.

Then Harry abruptly turned away and flung an arm over her shoulder. She _eeped_ in surprise as she was steered away. She could feel Malfoy's eyes boring into her back.

* * *

The gentle drizzle rolled from their cloaks as they trudged through the mud towards Care of Magical Creatures. Hermione tried to muster up some enthusiasm for the class, dull though it had been these last few months.

The Slytherins were walking a little way ahead of them, chatting and laughing. Malfoy was in the centre of the pack, apparently telling some hilarious story. Hermione glared at the back of the blond boys head. He was even still holding his arm funny, though he had ripped his bandages off months before, she saw in disgust.

Truthfully she dreaded seeing Hagrid's hopeful face as he hurried up to her, asking whether she had found something new for him. It felt almost cruel to pass over the few weak arguments that she had wrested from a thousand years of litigation. He was always so optimistic. She imagined him trying to present them in his clumsy way to a smirking Lucius Malfoy and whatever butcher he brought with him.

It made her want to cry.

The clearing where the remaining flobberworms were housed was awash with mud. The class headed quickly for the multiple of oversized umbrellas set up as a makeshift shelter. Hermione saw Hagrid's giant form headed in her direction and braced herself. He was crying she noted with a sinking feeling, fat, rolling tears that dripped into his beard.

 _Please let Buckbeak be alright_ , she thought but as Hagrid got closer she saw a smile that burst like a sunbeam through a veil of tears.

"Bless yer Hermione, I dunno how you did it, but bless yer." He seized her hand and pumped it up and down. Hermione stared at him, completely nonplussed by the turn of events.

"What do you mean Hagrid?" she said, massaging some feelings back into her fingers.

"Buckbeak's trial has been called off, I whatever you did it worked," Hagrid said thickly, seizing half her arm and patting her hand with his massive fingers.

She and Ron shared as bewildered look as Hagrid spun away to teach flobberworm care with a vigour not seen since the first class.

"What did you do?" Ron asked as they shuffled over to their tank.

"Nothing, there was nothing I could do." Hermione answered. She looked over at Malfoy, who was not looking at her at all.

* * *

It was dark and late. Hermione dragged herself along the corridor towards the tower. She had folded back three times today and the hours dragged down on her like leaden weights. The hallway was deserted, lit only by the flickering gas lamps that lined the walls. They swam in her vision, a line of light she could barely focus on.

Footsteps.

She stepped sideways into the shadows of a suit of armour. She waited until the footsteps were almost upon her, until she could see the light shining off of his cursed blond hair.

He stilled as her wand touched the back of his neck. He turned his head and Hermione wished that damned smirk was a valid reason to curse his face off.

"This stupid game of yours stops here, Malfoy," she said hating how her voice wavered just a little. "You can find your fun somewhere else or I swear I'll give you more than a black eye."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Intriguing," he drawled, "but you'll be happy to know I am not coming this way to make your evening more exciting."

A thousand accusations crowded against her lips. Hermione dearly wanted to curse him down to his toenails. She imagined trying to explain why Malfoy was now a small smoking pile of pouperee. _I was sick of seeing his face_ would probably not cut it.

"Why did you let Buckbeak go?" she asked instead. Malfoy did his stupid eyebrow thing again.

"What makes you think I did?"

"Because nobody else could have," she said, lowering her wand a fraction. Malfoy opened his mouth to reply.

"Hermione?" Neville's worried round face appeared out if the darkness. Malfoy groaned and shot the boy a disgusted look. "Are you alright?" Neville watched Malfoy uneasily, of all her friends he had at least taken her trepidation seriously. His wand wavered as he pointed towards the blond who looked singularly unimpressed.

"She's fine," Malfoy said, eyes rising heavenward, "you can run along and tell all your Gryffindor buddies I've not eaten her. Yet."

Hermione felt her lip curl but she wanted answers and Malfoy for all his creepy stalking had yet to actually do anything to her. She wished having him at wandpoint would make her feel safer. Still she gave Neville a quick reassuring nod. He backed away, eyes still on the boy.

"Why?" There was a blast of light and chatter as Neville disappeared into the portrait hole.

Malfoy kicked the ground. "Maybe I showed mercy?"

Hermione let out an unladylike snort. "That doesn't sound like you."

Malfoy smiled bitterly. "People change."

Hermione opened her mouth to deliver a scathing retort. Then her eyes dropped and what she saw made it stick in her throat. "Show me your arm." She reached for it before he could stop her. He drew back as if burned, because he was. Blisters the size of golf balls ran from wrist to elbow, the skin around them red and weeping.

"Jesus," she breathed. "Why have you not had that seen too?"

"Somethings cannot be healed," he said, drawing his sleeve over the wound. There was an unidentified expression on his face as he looked at her.

She shivered from the force of it. Her uneasiness came back, the creeping wrongness of him that had followed her all week. She took a few weary steps back, suddenly mindful of where she was and with who. Yet she couldn't tear her eyes away from Malfoy's arm. Bile was rising in her throat, she recoiled from where her mind was taking her.

"Was it Harry?" The words came unbidden. They hung tratoriously in the air between them. Malfoy looked caught off guard. Hermione wanted to snatch the words back, no doubt he would use them against her, yet instead more questions poured out of her. She had to know. "Does it have something to do with the seventh floor? Was it over Buckbeak? Is that…. Is that why you let him go?" At that, he looked almost amused.

He stepped away from her hands, straightening his cuffs so that all traces of his wound was concealed. He stared ahead into the darkness, a bitter smile playing around his thin mouth.

"And after he made sure to make friends with you again. What could Harry have done to make you lose faith in his so quickly I wonder?" Hermione flushed, the grain of truth made the barb cut deep. She opened her mouth to give the smirking git a piece of her mind but he spoke over her. "It was the result of a miscalculation and doesn't concern you Hermione. You should stop stressing about things out of your control. Enjoy this time-" He bit off whatever else he was going to say. Hermione stared at him, trying to see what he was not telling her. He looked up. Whatever she wanted to say died in her throat. There was something in his eyes she had never seen there before.

Guilt. He was drowning in it. For once it was him avoiding her gaze. She felt a rush of fear, but for what she could not say.

What could possibly make a boy like Malfoy feel such shame?

Footsteps interrupted her next question. Though she did not know what it would have been.

"Hermione? Oi git, get away from her." The cavalry has arrived in the form of Harry and Ron with Neville bringing up the rear. Relief and annoyance battled within her as she stepped back into her protective circle of friends.

"She is clearly still alive," Malfoy said apparently unbothered by the three wands pointed his way.

"We were just talking," Hermione said, feeling the grudging need to defend him.

"Oh yes? About what?" Harry said, his eyes on Malfoy.

"Granger decided to ambush me in order to profess her undying gratitude for the reprieve I gave to Hagrid's dogbothering bird," Malfoy said, sneer in place.

"He let Buckbeak off," Hermione said for the benefit of Neville and Ron who were looking lost. They looked more lost as the information sunk in, Ron opened and close his mouth apparently unable to compute the idea that Malfoy might have done a decent thing.

"We are thankful, however leaving Hermione alone from now on would be wise," Harry said. His wand was held casually at his side, yet there was an air of menace to her friend that seemed completely alien.

"Yeah, leave Hermione the hell alone!"

Hermione felt a burst of irritation as Ron grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. Apparently he was happy to believe her when it presented a chance to curse the Slytherin.

Malfoy shot Ron a look of such pure, poisonous hatred that she actually stepped back, amazed that a five minute conversation had almost made her forget the kind of person he was.

"You have me shaking in my boots Weasley," he said, turning on his heel. "Well this has been fun, excuse me, I suddenly have the urge to wash."

"I heard it doesn't take much to get you screaming like a little girl these days Malfoy!" Ron called gleefully after the retreating figure. A raised middle finger was his only reply.

"Are you really alright Hermione?" Neville said lowering his wand with a sigh. Hermione tried not to feel too annoyed at him, he had done the right thing by getting the boys she told herself. Even though it felt as if she had lost the chance for something crucial.

"I'm fine," she said as they huddled her back to the common room. "What did you mean by screaming?" she asked Ron, who was striding along beside her, still pumped from getting the last word in.

"Oh that? Just some rumours Fred heard. Surprise surprise the gits a hypocrite. He takes the piss out of Harry's nightmares when he went and screamed himself awake last Sunday."


	3. Three

_The previous chapters have been rewritten. Some sections are entirely different. What was up before was quite a very early draft so while you can continue on and still understand the story, it will make less sense than it otherwise would have. 9/2018_

 **THREE**

* * *

"We are going outside," Harry declared, snapping his book shut.

"You go, I need to finish reading this."

"Hermioneeee," Ron wheedled, "It's such a nice day."

"Go and enjoy it then," Hermione said not even looking up from her book. She didn't see Harry narrow his eyes at her, but she felt what he did next.

"Harry!" she howled as she felt his magic lift her into the air, "put me down!"

"What was that Hermione?" Harry asked, cupping his free hand theatrically to his ear, "You want to come outside with us?"

Hermione made a swipe for her wand left behind on the table but was beaten to it by a sniggering Ron.

They must have made quite a sight as the Harry levitated a protesting Hermione towards the Entrance Hall. People turned and giggled at the trio as they made their way downwards. Hermione felt a flare of trepidation as she was maneuvered down the stone steps, but Harry's spell held her as steady as a rock. The more she complained the more amused the boys got so eventually she lapsed into resigned silence. At least Ron had picked up her bookbag.

"Hey Neville, Ginny," Harry said, the two of them were standing by the great oak doors that lead to the sunshine beyond.

"Hey Harry," Neville said, eyeing a gently rotating Hermione. "Doing well?"

"Oh yes, we all spontaneously decided it was too nice outside to stay locked in the library pouring over dusty all books all day," Harry said with a straight face.

"All of you?" Neville said with a grin.

"No I-"

"Silenceo." Harry cast the spell _through_ his current levitation charm. Hermione felt her stomach lurch as she wobbled a little in the air but it soon steadied itself. She didn't even know you could do that. "It was Hermione's idea actually, care to join? You too Ginny."

He flashed a warm smile towards her. Ginny, predictably, went red as a tomato and mumbled something that sounded vaguely affirmative. Harry really needed to stop doing that to the poor girl before she has a coronary.

"Mr Potter what is the meaning of this?" McGonagall said as she strode out of the Great Hall. She regarded the gaggle of Gryffindor's and their floating captive. Neville, Ron and Ginny drew back as she approached endeavouring to show as little involvement in Harry's little prank as possible. For a moment Hermione though she might actually escape.

Harry did not move. If anything his grin widened at her approach. "We are headed outside for some much-needed rest and relaxation Professor" Harry said with a straight face.

"I see, and will Miss Granger be joining you?" McGonagall asked.

"Oh yes, Hermione is such a fan of rest and relaxation that she's getting a head start."

Neither of them was looking towards Hermione who was illustrating her objections with a series of inventive hand motions that only succeeded in spinning her gently in the air. To most people Professor McGonagall looked her usual stern self, but amusement played with the corners of her mouth.

"I see, well rest and relaxation are a vital part of the educational experience. I commend you for determination to assist your friend." Hermione rolled her eyes as the rest of them tried not to snigger. "Perhaps this can help in your endeavours."

Ron let out an excited whoop and McGonagall enlarged a long thin package. Harry's smile threatened to split his face as Ron and Neville assisted in ripping the paper from the gleaming Firebolt. Hermione felt a lurch of relief to find that despite months if Ron's dark speculations as to the state the broom would be in once returned, it looked as pristine as when it had arrived at Christmas.

"It has been thoroughly checked for all manner of spells, jinxes and curses." McGonagall said running a reverent hand down the satin smooth wood. She levelled Harry with a stern stare. "Should anything be amiss be sure to inform us immediately."

"I will Professor." Harry said, gently cradling the broom like it was an old friend.

"And be sure to become accustomed to it before you play Slytherin."

"Yes, Professor."

"Good." McGonagall straightened her robes and gave them a nod. "Good day to you then."

"To the Quidditch Pitch!" Ron announced. Hermione sighed, levitation or not there was no way of getting out of this now.

The day was beautiful Hermione admitted as the excited boys tramped towards the Quidditch Pitch. Ginny trailed them somewhat uncertainty, but Hermione knew that she was a Quidditch-mad as her brothers and the lure of a top-of-the-line racing broom was apparently enough to overcome her trepidation about feeling not really invited.

"Can I have a go first?" Ron asked immediately into their arrival. Harry looked a little doubtful.

"Don't be silly Ron, let Harry have a go on his present." Hermione turned to look at Neville, a little surprised he had spoken up.

"Of course," Ron said, looking chastised. Hermione interrupted Harry's response with a firm tap on the shoulder.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry Hermione," Harry said letting her down.

"Thank you." Hermione said more than a little sarcastically as soon as she would speak again. Harry looked completely unrepentant. Hermione found it hard to hold into her annoyance at his high-handedness. The warm light soaked into her sun-starved skin and she admitted privately she had perhaps spent too much time locked up in the library lately.

"Go on Harry, give it a go," Ron urged.

"Be careful though, I heard the acceleration on that thing is insane," Neville said, looking at it with awe.

Harry grinned, he tossed his bag onto the grass and placed a foot on the sleek bristles. Hermione felt her stomach lurch in sympathy as he shot vertically into the sky. In seconds, he was a speck against the endless blue.

Then he fell.

Hermione felt her heart rise to her mouth as boy, broom in hand, hurtled downwards. Harry was not fifteen feet from the ground when he slung his leg casually over the boom shaft and turned his free fall into a swan dive. Hermione let out an involuntary squeak as the breeze from his passing ruffled her hair.

"How can he just do that?" Neville said a little wistfully as Harry casually corkscrewed overhead. Hermione tried to think if she'd seen him on a broom since that one disastrous flying lesson in first year. She had assumed that like her, flying terrified him but she suddenly wondered if he it's just never got the chance to learn properly.

The Harry that finally reached the ground looked younger than when he's gone up, as if the rushing wind and bright sunlight had swept away all his worries. He grinned and thrust it into Ron's eager hands.

"Careful Ron, that things worth more than your life if mum finds out you broke it," Ginny told her grinning brother. Harry laughed, loud and long. Ginny went pink and ducked behind her hair.

"I'll be fine, Harry handled it okay," Ron said, his bravado betrayed by a careful, wobbly take-off.

"Right." He leaned forward ever so slightly.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

They watched the rapidly accelerating speck that was Ron hurtle towards the goal posts.

"Should we do something?" Hermione asked.

"Nah he's got this," Harry said as Ron disappeared over the far edge of the Quidditch Pitch.

Hermione twisted her hands as only the echo of his yells came back to them. "Are you sure?" Hermione said to a distant thump.

Harry just grinned at her.

Presently a slightly battered looking Ron flew back towards them, a grin stretching from ear to ear.

Ginny and Neville looked on enviously as he lapped, whooping, around the field, gradually building up speed this time. He didn't have the natural grace Harry did but he handled it with the competence of someone used to being in the air.

"That is so wicked!" he said when they finally persuaded him to come down. He thrust the broom back towards Harry, his wind roughed face as red as his hair. Harry caught the shaft and, Hermione noticed, gave it an unobtrusive look over.

"Ginny?" he said casually holding the sleek broom out to her. Ginny stared at him, eyes wide.

"You can't give it to her!" Ron exclaimed immediately. "It's far too much for her to handle."

"You barely stayed on!" Ginny glared at her brother, her face screwed up in embarrassment.

"Which is why you shouldn't try it. You've not ridden something half as fast," Ron said in a patronising tone. Hermione, who had been inclined to agree with him, was suddenly firmly Team Ginny.

"I trust her with it," Harry said mildly, "I've heard she's an excellent Quidditch player, tipped for the house team." He winked at her. Hermione sighed as Ginny appeared to lose all higher brain function. Harry was not helping her hopeless crush. He pressed the broom into her unresisting hands. "Go for it Gin, I believe in you."

"Really Harry I can't believe your encouraging this," Ron said. Hermione silently thanked him for opening his big fat mouth. The objection seemed to snap Ginny from her daze, she narrowed her eyes at her oblivious brother and swung a leg over the broom.

Her take off was smoother than Ron's. She made a lap of the pitch testing the sensitivity of the broom.

"She looks like she's doing fine," Hermione said.

"Mums going to kill me if she falls off," Ron said crossing his arms. "It's different if you do it Neville, but Ginny."

Neville looked down.

"I've hardly been on a broom," he mumbled, scuffing the cropped grass with his shoe. "Gran never really approved of Quidditch."

"Well do you want to learn?" Harry said immediately, "I reckon you would be a cracking flyer with a bit of practice."

"You think so?" Neville's face lit up.

"I guarantee it," Harry said, certainty ringing like a bell. Hermione hoped he was serious.

"What's she doing?" Ron said suddenly. Ginny was circling higher and higher above the pitch, Hermione knew next to nothing about brooms, but she though the other girl looked more comfortably in control.

"I think she might be proving a point," Hermione said, squinting against the sun.

Ginny lent back, pointing the broom skywards. She accelerated almost straight up, Hermione could hardly watch as she lent further and further until she hung suspended from the broom hundreds of feet above them. Ron muttered something she paid no mind to as Ginny completed her pitch-wide loop-de-loop. She began to dive.

"Merlin she's going to kill herself. Pull up!' Ron yelled as she hurtled towards the ground.

"Have a little faith Ron," Harry said, following her progress downward. Though Hermione noticed his wand had appeared in one hand.

She pulled up. They all heard her exhilarated yell as she zoomed past them shooting back up into the sky.

"You never mentioned she was so good," Neville said admirably as Ginny looped and whirled across the pitch. Ron commenced his muttering.

Hermione saw how the rest of her free period was going to go, so she found a place to sit as Neville was coaxed onto the broom. A windswept Ginny tottered over to her as Harry climbed on behind the nervous boy and talked him through how to take off. She slumped down next to Hermione was watching lesson take place overhead.

"I'm ruined," she declared, letting herself fall back onto the soft grass. "I'm never going to be satisfied with any of our old brooms ever again."

Hermione followed suite and they lay back, contemplating clouds and the boys antics high above. "I never knew you could fly," Hermione said with a touch of envy, it was one of the few things she completely failed at. Most of the time that suited her just fine, but she had felt the tug of jealousy at the younger girls' easy command of the air.

Ginny reddened a little at the complement. "You can't grow up with brothers like mine and not want to learn," she said a little self-consciously, "I would join in as often as they would let me."

Hermione immediately felt bad for her mental pettiness. Ginny squinted upwards to where Neville was taking shaky laps around the pitch, Harry comfortably perched on the bristles.

"You're really good," Hermione said. Not because she was any good at judging these things but because she doubted it was something Ginny had heard often. "Harry seems to think so too."

Predictably, Ginny went even redder.

"How did he know though? I never thought he would even let me _touch_ it. That Firebolt is probably worth more than our house."

"Really?" Hermione said, she suddenly had an inkling as to why Ron had been so pissed when it had been confiscated.

Ginny nodded. "It's top of the line, all the professional teams are flying them this year."

"Then where did it come from?" Hermione asked, eyes troubled. She knew better to bring up the subject again with the boys, but the mystery still bothered her. Ginny shrugged.

"Could be a fan, perhaps someone wanted to show appreciation for the Boy Who Lived."

"Someone would spend tens of thousands of galleons?" Hermione said sceptically. Ginny opened her mouth and then hesitated.

"No offence Hermione, but you didn't grow up in the Wizarding World," Ginny said, her voice apologetic, and Hermione really tried not to take any. "It's hard for you to get just how much Harry means to people. My parents don't speak of it much, but I know the war was truly terrible. They were losing. Tom- You-Know-Who seemed unstoppable. Then one day he was gone. Harry saved all of us. We who came after, we grew up knowing his name." She looked away. "I think I still have the whole series of 'The Adventures of Harry Potter' under my bed at home."

"There's a book series about Harry?"

Ginny nodded, grinning. "They came out just after the war. It's a bunch of kids' books imagining his adventures at Hogwarts. They are completely ridiculous, they have him saving dragons and fighting dark wizards I loved them when I was younger."

"Does he know about them?" Hermione asked already plotting to get hold of them. The fact she had never heard of them before was a tragedy.

Ginny looked mildly horrified. "I hope not. They are pretty cringeworthy. I think Skeeter pulled them out of print a few years back, she was probably worried about a lawsuit."

"Still it seems implausible," Hermione said.

"The books? I think they underestimated him."

"That a random stranger would spend a fortune on Harry." Ginny shrugged apparently disinclined to argue the point. She fidgeted a little, playing with the hem of her robes. Hermione waited for whatever was on her mind.

"Hermione?" she said finally, "do you think Harry might be interested in someone?"

Hermione felt her face twitch, but she firmly suppressed the urge to laugh in the other girl's face. "No Ginny, I don't think he's interested in any girl," she said as kindly as she could. Ginny studiously examined the grass her face twisted in pre-adolescent misery. "Why?" It occurred to her to ask.

"It's just he visited Luna in the Hospital Wing on the weekend," she mumbled.

"Luna Lovegood? Why was she in the Hospital Wing?" Hermione asked.

"She didn't say. Madam Pomphrey kept her overnight for observation. Her housemates have 'pranked' her bed in the past," Ginny said with a scowl.

"I don't think Harry knows Luna." Hermione said, though not with the confidence she would have had prior to their estrangement. She remembered the anger on his face as he strode across the courtyard towards her.

"He brought her a bouquet of butterbeer caps," Ginny said. Hermione looked at her in confusion. "You'd understand if you knew Luna," she added, "but _only_ if you knew Luna."

"I've never seen him even talk to her," Hermione said honestly. Ginny looked at least a little comforted by the news. Hermione wondered if she should perhaps pass some advice to the hopelessly smitten girl, but since she had exactly zero experience in that area she decided to keep her theories to herself.

She sighed and looked at her watch. They were running out of time. Ron was running beneath a more confident looking Neville who was lapping the pitch with what looked like little direction from Harry who perched at the end of the bristles like an oversized bird.

"Go Neville!" Ron hollered pumping his fist in the air. Neville's smile was probably visible from space Hermione thought as he smoothly weaved in and out of the goals.

They were probably ten feet from the ground when Harry lent over his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Neville's head snapped around, his eyes wide but Harry had already jumped.

Hermione had little time for more than a rush of adrenalin as Harry landed with a perfectly executed barrel-roll. He made a theatrical bow to the stunned girls even as Hermione drew an outraged breath to give him a berating for such a stupid stunt. Their attention however was diverted by Neville who was wobbling dangerously into the air, all confidence gone.

"You got this Neville! You don't need me up there!" he yelled up at the boy. Neville looked like he disagreed but there was little he could do. Which was the point Hermione supposed. She sincerely hoped they were not about to have a repeat of first year.

"Go Neville!" Ginny yelled up, "do some more laps!"

Hermione saw Neville take a deep breath and reposition his hands on the broom handle. He lent forward ever so slightly.

Harry looked inordinately pleased with himself as Neville took a few laps around the pitch, slowly building up speed.

"Are you up next Hermione?" he asked.

"Only over your very dead body," Hermione said firmly. " You should call him down, we've got DADA in fifteen minutes." And she was probably going to have to sneak back to the library and pay for her hour off, considering she also had Arithmancy next period and she had been kidnapped before she could finish the reading.

Harry nodded and waved Neville down. Neville landed a little clumsily, grinning ear to ear. He carefully handed the broom back to Harry. Harry clapped him into the back.

"See? a natural. Make sure you come along next time Neville, we'll make a flyer out of you yet"

Nevils smile was actually larger than when he Lecturing some poor first year on one plant or another. Neville's smile could have outshone the sun.

They trooped back towards the castle with the rest of the reluctant student body. Hermione stepped away as her friends headed towards the staircase and let time claim her.

She caught up to them two hours and ten minutes later as they reached Lupin's classroom.

"Where did you go?" Ron asked.

"Bathroom," she said shortly stuffing the last of her Arithmancy notes into her bag. The extra time weighted down on her. She tried to rouse herself for Professor Lupin's class. He should be there.

After all, it was not a full moon.

She had not told the boys about her theory, though she was almost certain of it. Why Snape had tried to out Professor Lupin, she did not know, but after two years of malign and incompetent DADA teachers she would be damned before she let this one go. Dumbledore had to know about it. Professor Lupin clearly had a safe place to go during the full moon and, barring any mysterious disappearances, she was willing to keep his secret.

Plus, Snape clearly hated that he had the position and that made Hermione happy.

In the beginning she had waited with baited breath to see if anyone else recognised the signs Snape had oh-so helpfully laid out for them but none did, and Professor Lupin had been back to teaching the following week.

Lupin looked tired and worn as they shuffled into the classroom. Hermione did a quick calculation and realised the full moon had only been a few days before. Still he smiled when he saw them, reserving his brightest one for Harry. He might have a favourite Hermione thought privately but at least he mostly kept it to himself.

She set her bag down on the table and looked towards the desk but today there was no cloth-covered cage to capture their interest. Lupin waited until they were a seated, the class went naturally silent, a wonder for a Slytherin and Gryffindor class and a testament to how interesting Lupins lessons usually were.

"I know I told you last week that we would be learning about Hinkypuffs today. However, considering recent events I have amended the curriculum. Today's class is one I have decided to give to all years this week." He waved his wand and the dark form of a Dementors stood before them. Several people in the class screamed. Hermione gripped the desk waiting for the wave of despair to overcome her.

The class stayed warm and pleasant. Lupin's illusion hovered in front of them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Malfoy quietly put down his wand. Without the bite of despair, she could appreciate the creeping horror of its form, the skeletal hands were the only part that indicated a creature dwelled under the drifting cloak. Hermione did not want to see what was under the hood.

Harry scowled and slouched in his seat, his good mood apparently evaporating as he realised the direction the class was taking.

"When the Dementor came to your class what did you feel?" Lupin asked when the class had settled down again. "Miss Brown?"

"Every bad memory," Lavender said quietly, her face pale. "Every dark thought."

"Well summarised Miss Brown. Five points to Gryffindor," Lupin said. "The Dementors feed on our worst memories and darkest thoughts. The more trauma in a person's past the more susceptible one is to their effects."

Some in the class turn to look at Harry who did not look particularly bothered about being reminded of his infamous fainting fit during the Hufflepuff match. Hermione half expected Malfoy to come up with some unclever remark, but he did as he had done the whole week and ignored all three of them. Hermione tried her hardest to return the favour but to her great annoyance she found herself unable to. She forced her eyes away. If Lavender spotted her staring at Malfoy she would never hear the end of it.

"Does anyone know some of the methods to drive away the Dementor's effect?"

Lupin looked pointedly at Harry who slumped further down in his seat.

Lavender raised her hand again. "Chocolate?" she said for an easy few house points. Lupin nodded and obliged her.

"Correct. As I am sure you are all aware chocolate will ease the after effects of a Dementors presence. But how to drive them away?"

Hermione raised her hand since Harry was apparently not going to take the hint. "The Patronus Charm."

"Correct, Miss Granger, take five points for Gryffindor. The Patronus Charm is an ancient spell that when cast correctly produces a guardian of light that drives away the darkness. It is born of our happiest memories and therefore is the antithesis of a Dementor." Lupin pulled out his wand. It was battered and chipped like most everything else he owned yet he held it with a confidence that Hermione respected.

 _"Expecto Patronum."_

A gasp went through the class as a canine made of light coalesced out of the air. It padded around the illusion of the Dementor, sniffing, before deciding it was no threat.

"Why does yours take the form of a dog Professor?" Hermione asked loudly as she looked at the wolf made of light. Well that probably counted as confirmation. Harry and Lupins heads jerked up to look at her. She kept her expression of innocent curiosity firmly on her face.

"A Patronus' form is unique to its caster. The form comes from within, quite how it is chosen we do not know." Lupin said, still looking at her wearily. "They spread light and hope and drive away the darkness."

With a wave of his wand and his wolf trotted between the desks. The class visibly relaxed as warmth and safety washed over them even as it's light did. It paused by her desk, it's great head turning to look at her with almost human eyes. She reached out without even thinking, it felt warm, substantial and somehow not, as if made of liquid light.

 _Wearied concerned grateful afraid._

Hermione pulled her hand away as her teacher's feelings washed over her. She looked up at Lupin who suddenly looked even more worried. The wolf took several steps backward out of her reach.

"They can also be used to communicate in times of need," the wolf said in their teacher's voice. The whole class jumped, and Lupine smiled though their resulting laughter.

"Of course, you will not be producing a corporeal Patronus today. It is a skill difficult even for fully trained wizards. Even amongst our NEWT class, few have made substantial progress. However, the spell is also able to produce a mist."

The class sighed as the wolf disappeared. A thin silvery mist coalesced around him, less than an echo of the warm protection of before.

"The keystone of this spell is a memory," Lupin said, "you must find a memory untainted by sadness and let that become your strength. The stronger the memory of your happiness, the stronger the protection will be. Pair up and begin."

The class did so eagerly and soon the room filled with the sounds of casting and the occasional spurt of mist. Hermione made her way over at Harry, the only one not yet paired. He sat looking into nothing a dark expression on his face.

"Are you not even going to try Harry?" she asked, she lowered her voice. "After all you must have had the most practice."

"You go first Hermione," Harry said, dragging a good-natured mask across his face.

She sighed and did as he indicated. She cast her mind back for a moment of joy.

 _Harry looking at her, eyes full of sincerity as he apologized unreservedly. Ron rubbing her stinging knuckles as he looked at her in concern. Her friends, friends again._

"Expecto Patronum."

A wisp of silver drifted from the end of her wand. The echo of past happiness. Hermione frowned as the memory slipped away.

"It needs to be stronger," Harry said as if reciting something he had heard before, "the happiest memory you have."

Across the room a thick silver smoke was boiling out if Malfoy's wand. Pansy simpered her praise as she hung from his arm. For a moment their eyes met, the silver in the air coiled between them and Hermione almost thought she saw something sleek and rodent-like form in its depths. Malfoy frowned, and the form disappeared.

"Ten points to Slytherin, Mr Malfoy," Lupin said.

"Thank you, sir," Malfoy said absently.

Lupin stopped and blinked at the boy for a moment. Hermione pulled her eyes away before she got caught gaping at Malfoy's uncharacteristic display of manners.

Harry was watching her a strange smile on his face.

"What?" she asked, feeling suddenly defensive.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"Why don't you try then?" Hermione said crossing her arms. Harry did not want to, she could see it in his face. His eyes flickered to Lupin who was watching them front he corner of his eye. He sighed and lifted his wand.  
 _  
"Expecto Patronum."_

Nothing happened. Not even the faintest wisp of silver was called forth. Harry stared sightlessly at the end of his wand. He looked bereaved Hermione thought, fighting a sudden urge to wrap her arms around him. As if something precious had been lost.

"Perhaps a happier memory?" she said.

"There is no happier memory," Harry said placing down his wand. His fingers strayed to his ring finger and he stared down at something that was not there.

"Then perhaps another..."

"It won't work for me Hermione, none of them will work."

"Ok," Hermione said, backing off. She tried again producing little more than a puff of silver. Harry offered no advice; his mind was elsewhere. Lupin made his way around the class, Hermione could feel him watching them, or more likely watching Harry, but he didn't try to approach to question why Harry spent the rest of the lesson with his wand in the table.

"A word, Miss Granger?" Lupin said as the class filed out excitedly speculating as to what their Patronus would be.

Hermione stopped and waved ahead a hovering Ron. Lupin shut the door of the classroom firmly behind him. Hermione watched him fidget with the scrolls on his desk for a few moments.

"I won't tell anyone Professor."

Lupin looked up, his face almost still but she could see the fear beneath. If she needed further confirmation he had provided it in one look.

"What would that be Miss Granger?" Lupin asked, his face guarded.

Hermione had never held such power over a teacher before. She didn't like it. Such a secret should not hold so much sway over a good teacher's fate.

"About your... condition. Dumbledore must trust you are safe. I've not told anyone, and I don't plan too, not even to Harry."

Lupin looked visibly younger as her words erased lines of worry from his face. He sat back down rubbing the weariness from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, you really are the smartest witch of your age," he said.

Hermione hesitated a moment. "I do have a question, Sir."

Lupin sighed but waved a hand. "By all means Miss Granger you have earned the right to ask what you want about my condition."

"Oh, actually I wanted to know if it is possible to lose the ability to cast a Patronus?"

Lupin looked up at her sharply. "Is this about Mr Potter?"

"It's just I thought his problem was with the corporeal form rather than the casting in your classes," Hermione said, shifting slightly.

"Harry stopped attending my classes some time ago," Lupin said, "I had thought he had simply given up on the idea." He looked at her. "Of course, I cannot speculate on Harry in particular."

Hermione opened her mouth, but Lupin held up a hand.

"I can tell you that there are rare accounts of such occurrences. The Patronus relies on a single talisman memory, it must be pure in its joy, leaving no foothold for the darkness to draw from. However, memories of the past can become tainted by later events or emotions, it can make a memory no longer viable as a keystone of the spell."

"So, to lose the ability completely..."

"All memories of joy have to have become tainted."

Lupin looked at her troubled expression.

"I wouldn't worry Miss Granger; such a thing tends to involve something calamitous. Harry likely did not want to be embarrassed trying to cast a spell he struggles with."

Hermione nodded and headed for the door, she turned back hand on the knob.

"Professor, what kind of emotions would taint a memory."

Lupin replied without looking up. "The kind that would taint any memory, grief, rage, loss, guilt."

Hermione stepped out the class and walked away slowly. Another thought caught her step. If Harry was not going to Lupins class in the evenings, where was he going?

"You can't go sniffing around Sirius' investigation now."

Malfoy's voice stopped her in her tracks. Had the corridor not been deserted she would not have heard it drift from behind the door of the unused classroom. She hesitated. Malfoy had been keeping out of her business lately, it would be smart to return the favour.

Hermione was often not as smart as people gave her credit for.

She slipped into the small alcove to the side of the door. The sound was muffled here. She placed her wand-tip to the shell of her ear and whispered a spell. There was a sensation not unlike all the earwax dribbling from her ears. The sounds in the room became a little clearer.

"-if I have to break into Azkaban to do it."

Hermione stifled a gasp at the sound of Harry's voice from just behind the wall. She stood frozen, listening to him pace up and down the room. There was silence from the other side.

"Yeah, that won't tip our hand at all."

Hermione jumped as a door further down the corridor opened and footsteps hurried away. A moment later the classroom door slammed open and Hermione shrunk into the shadows as Malfoy stormed past. He halted for a second, staring after the retreating sound. Harry followed him out.

"Go," Harry said, his voice hard.

"You can't-" Malfoy began.

Harry did not repeat himself. His eyes bore into the blond boy. Malfoy glared at him with something that approached hatred. Then he abruptly turned on his heel and walked away. Harry stared after him for a moment, a bitter look playing across his face. She should go confront him, ask him for explanation. She did not move. In that moment he didn't look like her friend. She heard him sigh and head the way of the tower.

She slid to the floor and stayed there. She could leave. Head back to the common room with a smile on her face and ignore another thing for the sake of friendship. Show herself worthy of the trust and affection Harry given her by demonstrating a little of her own.

She stared at the floor. The lines in the stone wavered under her watering eyes. The Time-Turner sat heavy on its chain. McGonagall had personally guaranteed to the Ministry that her student would not abuse the rare and powerful artefact she was entrusted with.

She touched the Time-Turner. It was a beautiful thing, the only necklace she had ever really worn. She had tried so hard to be worthy of such trust.

Her fingers reached for the dial and she twisted through time, a silent apology on her lips.

The corridor was still deserted when she stepped out of the alcove. Professor Lupin's voice could be heard wrapping up their class. She ducked into the unused classroom. She cursed. The room had probably not been used in decades. A few fossilised desks and a dusty blackboard were all that occupied the space. What it was devoid of was anywhere to hide and her past self would soon be occupying the alcove outside.

Her eyes alighted on a door set in one wall. She strode over to it. It opened with a creek that split the silence. It let to the equally undisturbed adjacent classroom. Hermione slipped through and pushed it shut, wincing at the noise.

She didn't have to wait long.

The unseen door opened momentarily letting in the chatter of the corridor. Hermione pressed her ear to the door, trying to discern what they were doing on the other side.

"Have you heard?" Malfoy's voice was not muffled through the thin wood. She held her breath, suddenly worried that any movement on her part would be just as easily heard.

"Nothing," Harry said, she could hear the frustration in his voice. "They must know, but they do nothing."

"Politics," Malfoy said in disgust. "They have everything to gain by burying it. Speaking of-"

"He's in."

Hermione could hear Malfoy pacing.

"It's a risk."

"Losing it to a raid is more of a risk. We know they have one planned."

"Transport options are limited if we don't want to be traced. I'm not freezing my arse of on a broom for six hours."

"I have an idea about that."

"Destruction will be problematic. Last time was less than discreet," Malfoy said after a pause.

Harry snorted. "We didn't anticipate how restricting the Trace would be to our movements. Luckily, there are other ways available."

"Unfortunately you have lost the ability to reach either of them, Harry." Malfoy said, his voice turning bitter and mocking.

Hermione heard Harry take a seat on one of the ancient desks.

"There is someone who can enter," Harry said in that infuriatingly mild way of his. There was the sudden silence. In it Hermione could hear Malfoy move agitatedly around the room. She frowned, her spell was a weak one, and the classroom was long.

"Absolutely not, you can't ask tha-" Malfoy said, his voice fading in and out of hearing-range, "what makes-" She concentrated on each muffled sound, "-even think she could?"

"Possession is nine tenths of the law."

"You are really not as funny as you think you are Potter," Malfoy muttered. Hermione wished he would stop pacing the length of the room.

"She'd do it for me."

"Which is why you won't,-"Hermione scowled and pressed her ear closer to the woodwork, "-child - can afford to wait."

"A stain on the soul can fade in time. Mine has. Who knows what will be left afterwards? We can't afford to lose this opportunity. Every turn of the clock takes us further away from what we know. From the very first second we have been running out of time."

"You won't do it."

Harry snorted humorlessly. "Have you forgotten what's at stake?"

"You won't." Malfoy said, his voice suddenly smug and closer to her hiding spot. "I've seen you out there, trying to be better than you were. You won't despoil this precious time. You're too full of guilt as it is, or did I see wrong?"

Hermione strained her ears in the silence that followed. There was nothing to hear but the sound of Harry's steady breathing

"You're still a basted Draco."

"And you are still Harry Potter."

Harry's hollow laughter made her jump.

"That's almost touching." Hermione shifted as he paced past the door. "She would not have to rem-"

"If you try this, I won't keep it a secret," Malfoy interrupted. He spoke as if placing down an ace, there was a sudden pregnant pause.

"That's not fair."

Hermione could almost hear Malfoy's smirk through the woodwork.

"If you're so sure of the necessity of-" his voice dropped below the edge of hearing, "-no trouble explaining yourself to her."

Harry swore at him. Malfoy laughed, and Hermione, who had been concentrating so hard to catch every breath, started at the unexpected sound. She looked down at her hands knotting her jumper together. She wished she had left Harry to his secrets, whatever they were. She turned to leave, resolving to leave it all behind her.

"If we went to Dumbledore-"

Harry cut him off.

"You think Dumbledore could ever condone what's happening within his walls?"

"If he knew..."

"He would do everything in his power to stop what we did, no matter the cost, no matter the future."

There was a long silence. The corridor outside was quiet. Hermione jumped a little as she heard Malfoys back slump against her door. She heard what he said next as clear as day.

"You shouldn't have used a Subjugation Jar to capture the rat. You can't go sniffing around Sirius' investigation now."

Harry's voice lost it's humour. "He deserved it. Everything happened because of him. I'll kill that rat-bastard if I have to break into Azkaban to do it."

The cold comprehension of what had just been said ran through her. Hermione stepped back, her hands rising unbidden to stem the bile that rose in her throat. She stared at the door, those last terrible words running in circles around her head.

"Yeah that won't tip our hand at all," Malfoy said, sounding unsurprised.

Hermione couldn't listen any longer, she fled, tripping over the discarded desks and wrenching open the door to the corridor. She ran towards the tower uncaring that her footsteps echoed on the stone. She heard the door behind her open and knew that her past self was watching in the shadows as they stared after her retreating figure.

* * *

Neville was the only one in the common room when she came bursting through the portrait hole.

"Are you all right? he asked, his face full of soft concern. Hermione tried to compose herself. It wasn't easy. Her mind was chasing itself in circles. She didn't understand. She didn't want to understand, didn't want to know. Harry was her friend, her best friend. He wasn't capable...

He had done that to Scabbers. He was plotting with Malfoy. He planned to hunt down Sirius Black and... And...

So what was she going to do about it?

"Hermione?"

"If you thought a friend of you was going to do something stupid and dangerous, or wrong. Would you turn them in?" she asked, addressing the floor. Neville stepped forward and to her surprise lifted her chin with a finger. He gave her troubled continence one of those long slow looks that always saw more than most would give him credit for.

"It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends," he quoted in his best Dumbledore voice.

A giggle bubbled up from somewhere inside of her that wasn't reeling from the words still echoing in her head. She looked up into Neville's playful smile and felt a degree better, even though she could read the worry lurking underneath.

"That didn't work out terribly well for you if I remember rightly," she said the corner of her mouth twitching upwards.

"You remember wrong, I won the House Cup for us that year," Neville said, sticking his nose in the air in an exaggerated imitation of everyone's favourite blond git. Hermione felt a genuine smile form over the brittle bones of her face. Neville's bloomed in return. She let him usher her to a chair. She slumped into the cushions, her mind lost in thought as she stared sightlessly at the patterned carpet.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked her, touching her arm and startling her out of her revive. In his hand was a steaming mug overflowing with cream and marshmallows, she had no idea where he had got it, but then even Neville could have his secrets.

She accepted the hot-chocolate, wrapping her hands around the welcome warmth. Neville settled chair next to her. She found herself inordinately grateful that he was gifting her his company without pressing her for answers. A handful of moments passed in comfortable silence.

"Do you think they'll hate me again?" she whispered almost to herself. Such a small childish thought. The small logical part of her mind told her she was retreating from the truth. Unable to comprehend the full implications of what she had heard. A larger part concluded that it could not be true. Either she couldn't see the whole picture or else the Harry she had known for three years was not the person in that room.

"If they did they're idiots." Neville said firmly, quiet conviction running through his words. He hesitated, looking down at his slipper-clad toes. "If they did I wouldn't just stand by this time and... and..."

"It's okay," she said, dragging her mind back to the present. This was important too. "I understand why you didn't feel you could the last time."

"It's not okay," he said finally meeting her eyes, "I'm sorry I never spoke out, Hermione, you would have for me."

His unvarnished faith in her hit where it hurt. In truth she didn't know if she would have done any such thing had their positions been reversed. Hermione felt her battered heart swell. She smiled at him and resisted the urge to throw her arms around the shy boy.

"Thank you," she said, putting as much feeling as she could into those words. Neville went a little pink around the ears.

"Doing what is right isn't always easy," he said earnestly, "They'd understand, eventually."

She nodded sadly, she wished she could have his faith. The choice before her was no choice at all really. Slowly she put down her mug.

"I'll see you later Neville."

His concerned face was the last thing she saw as she backed out of the portrait hole and started the long walk down to McGonagall's office.

* * *

Harry caught her before she got there.

"Hermione."

Hermione felt herself go cold. Harry's voice came out of the shadows that wreathed the corridor ahead. He had guessed where she would go. Guessed, and come to stop her. He stepped out of the shadows. She felt a shiver of something she didn't want to identify.

"What do you want Harry?" she asked, backing up a step.

"I want to explain."

"What could you possibly say to explain Scabbers?" Hermione whispered in to the hush. Harry's eyes darkened, and she saw a glimpse of that same savage rage the night they had found Ron's pet strung up. She backed up further her hand feeling the thin length of wood nestled in her pocket. The fact she even felt the need to brought another wave of despair crashing over her.

Hermione could see indecision wrestling across his face. Her whole body was tensed, as if posed to run. McGonagall's office was only a few rooms away yet Harry was so fast on the draw these days... He hesitated for a long moment, searching her eyes for what she did not know. Hermione could see when he made his choice, a calm resignation fell over him. The look that told her Harry was about to do what he thought was right.

"It's a long story, an almost unbelievable one," he said softly, his eyes pleading with her to listen.

"What could possibly justify that Harry?" Hermione knew her voice held an edge of hysteria. In her mind's eye she could still see Scabbers, face frozen in pain. "Ron's pet! I want to understand, but what could you possibly say that... that..."

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Hermione's heart ached at the familiar gesture. He looked up at her and Hermione could see his remorse.

"Can you give me five minutes? Five minutes of your time, if you aren't satisfied or if you don't believe me then I'll go with you to McGonagall."

Hermione's eyes traced the familiar features of his face. He stood and let her choose. Never had she hesitated when Harry had asked something so small of her.

"I..."

"Please Hermione. Trust me."

She knew that she did. Despite everything she had heard, she knew deep down that her friend, her best and first friend had to have an explanation worth hearing. She took her hand out of her pocket and stepped towards him. He smiled at her, yet she couldn't bring herself to return it.

Quietly she followed him into an unused classroom, trying to empty her mind of the hundreds of questions that occupied it. She resolved to listen to her friend without condemnation. She hoped desperately that his explanation was one she could live with.

The room was much like most of the empty classrooms at the school. Hermione stared sightlessly at a poster for Muggle Studies, so she didn't need to look at Harry actually remembered to soundproof the room this time. The figures in 70s fashion moved sluggishly around a diagram of a lightbulb.

She turned as he raised his wand towards her.

 _"Incarcerous."_

Hermione felt herself slam against the wall as ropes wound their way around her arms. She saw stars. Her wand dropped from her nerveless fingers and clattered to the ground.

"What are you doing?" She looked at her friend, too shocked to feel anything but devastating disbelief. "Let me go!"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He stepped towards her and for the first time in her life she feared him. She kicked out wildly until her feet too were bound.

"Harry, please," she breathed. She was crying, tears tracing the lines of her face. She looked into his eyes and found that same remorse there.

It didn't stop him.

"Hermione, who did you tell?" he asked, his voice terribly gentle.

She turned her face away, closing her lips tight against her teeth. She couldn't even look at him. Outrage rose in her, blotting out the fear. She felt her mouth curl into a snarl, she was going to _castigate_ him when he let her down. This was Harry, he wasn't going to hurt her.

Then he did.

Hermione startled when Harry's hand cupped her face. She turned her head. His gaze locked onto hers. She was drowning in viridescence. The green of his eyes was all she could see. A gasp tore itself from her as she felt him brush against the membrane of her mind. Then she screamed and kept screaming as he pushed inside of her.

She wrenched against the ropes and his insistent hand, choking on the horror of what he was doing. She could feel him pressing himself into her private places. Invading where he had _no right_ to be.

Pleas spilled out between choked sobs. She didn't even know what she was saying. She only knew she was begging and he wasn't listening. She felt him rifle through the memories of the morning and shrank from the utter violation of him being inside her head. She saw in her mind's eye Neville's kind face swim into focus.

Finally, it was over. Hermione slumped in her bindings. She felt her whole-body flinch and curl away from him as Harrys hands came into view. She lifted her burning gaze to his.

"Who are you? Because you are not my friend."

New guilt spilled into his eyes. Hermione felt nothing. She was hollowed out by the horror of it.

The stranger in her friend's skin gave her a sad ennobled smile. "I am always your friend Hermione."

"I hope he's dead," she said tonelessly, as if the imposter had not spoken, "better he's dead, than he's you."

Harry recoiled as if struck. She watched as his mask of noble righteousness crumbled, revealing the turmoil underneath. She hung there, uncaring, as he put the pieces back together and faced her once more, his expression at once resolute and terribly sad.

"I know you can't understand this right now, but this… this is a kindness."

Hermione said nothing because there was nothing to say.

Harry raised his wand.

" _Obliviate."_

* * *

 _If Harry was not going to Lupins class in the evenings, where was he going?_

Hermione's brow wrinkled as she opened her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. She blinked slowly, that last clinging thought refusing to release its hold on her hazed mind. The morning light lanced through the window and straight into her eyes. She winced and closed them against the accompanying stab of pain.

By degrees she opened them again, the Hospital Wing swam into focus. Dust-motes danced in the sunbeams above her.

 _If Harry was not going to Lupins class in the evenings, where was he going?_

Hermione groaned and banished that thought for later. She tried to roll over sending fresh waved of pain radiating from behind her eyes. The ward was silent in the early morning hush and almost empty. The bed next to hers was the only one occupied. Hermione focused on the fingers curled around the edges of a large book and long blonde hair spilled across white sheets.

"Luna?" she croaked, suddenly realising her mouth was as dry as parchment. The book lowered, and she looked into a pair of luminous blue eyes.

"Oh, you're awake." Luna did not seem particularly surprised that Hermione knew her name, though to her recollection they had never spoken.

"Water," Hermione managed. Luna picked up a slender wand from her nightstand and pointed it towards the water jug against the far wall. Hermione found herself impressed as the jug poured a glass. Luna floated the glass across to her and she took the offered drink gratefully. She wondered why the girl had not done the same thing with her belongings that day out in the courtyard.

She drank greedily, ignoring the other girls slightly unsettling stare. She looked around for Madam Pomfrey, but the mediwitch was nowhere to be seen.

"What happened? Why am I here?" she asked Luna since there was nobody else to question.

"Harry brought you in last night," Luna said. Hermione frowned, Harry's name brought with it an echo of… something, yet the memories slipped away, elusive as a dream at dawn.

"Did he say why?" she asked, pressing the heel of her palm into her eye-sockets. The pressure relieved the pain somewhat. She tried to recall the evening before. She remembered talking to Professor Lupin, stepping out into the corridor and then… nothing.

"He told Madam Pomfrey you collapsed from exhaustion," Luna said without looking at her.

"Why are you here?"

"I like it here."

It was an odd thing to say, but then she supposed this could be a sanctuary of sorts. She knew she had found stranger shelters from her tormentors. On the nightstand between the was Harry's flowers, crafted with some skill from butterbeer caps. She opened her mouth to ask about them, but Luna had lost interest in her. She burrowed back under her covers, the book rising between them like a barrier. The cover was written in a language she didn't even recognise. Hermione tried not to feel slighted, after all the girl didn't actually know her.

"I really must be overdoing things." Hermione said to herself, rubbing her eyes again. She must have taken quite a tumble too, she ached in places she didn't know she had. The doors towards the end of the long room opened. She heard the footsteps making their way towards her.

She looked up.

Harry strode towards her, concern written all over his face.

Hermione smiled at the sight of him. He must have skipped breakfast to come check up on her she realised, glancing at the large clock hung above the door. His long stride checked itself at the edge of her bed, he shifted from foot to foot, staring at the floor.

"Morning," she said, struggling to sit up in the soft bed. Harry started forward to help her, his hands hovering uncertainty before withdrawing as she pulled herself up.

"How are you feeling?" he said quietly running his eyes across her prone form. She must have really worried people she thought with a stab of guilt.

"Not so terrible, thanks to you," she said, trying to catch his gaze. He glanced up with a flash of verdant green. A stab of pain closed her eyes. She opened them to find him smiling wanly at her. "I'm sorry if I scared you," she added, trying to wipe that worried look from his face.

"Don't apologize," he said. Hermione looked past him to see Luna peeking out from behind her book. She lowered her voice.

"Where did you find me?"

"By the library," Harry said, dropping his eyes.

"Are you sure I fainted?" she said, Malfoy might not have been around much lately, but she couldn't forget the time she had spent worried that just such a thing might happen. She frowned, she was sure she had been heading for the tower, why double-back to the library?

"Madam Pomfrey checked your body for spell damage. You hit your head when you fell, that's all," Harry said. Hermione nodded not feeling entirely reassured.

"What about class?" Hermione said, as more urgent matters came to mind.

A smile broke through the concerned look on Harry's face."Hey, steady," he said as she tried to swing her legs out from under the blankets. "I already went around all your mornings classes, here are the assignments." He lifted a heavy bag onto her bed.

Hermione looked down at her book bag filled with neatly stacked scrolls. She felt warm inside at such a thoughtful gesture.

"Am I that predictable?"

"Yes."

She smiled up at her best friend. "Thanks Harry."

He looked down. There was something else playing over is face. Unbidden, the conversation with Lupin visited her again.

 _If Harry was not going to Lupins class in the evenings, where was he going?_

The thought that had woken her wouldn't let go. She wondered if this was a time she could bring it up, even with Luna a few feet away eavesdropping behind her book.

"Hermione!" Ron's shout made her grimace as it sent a shard of pain through her bruised brain. Luna made a small, startled sound. Ron could be so inconsiderate sometimes. Still, she felt the corner of her mouth tug upwards as her lanky friend bowled through the quiet ward.

"Morning," she said as he threw himself into the chair next to her bed. His front was covered with breakfast crumbs. Her stomach suddenly reminded her that she didn't remember eating last night.

"You feeling alright?" Her friend said as he looked her over. "We told you you've been working too hard!"

"Thanks Ron," she said in an entirely different tone.

"You're only mad because know I'm right," Ron said grandly, "Oh, I got you something." Hermione felt her heart warm as he withdrew a slightly squashed napkin wrapped pile of toast from his pocket. "Here you go," he said, making some effort to brush off the lint. Hermione couldn't bring herself to care, she accepted them eagerly.

"Do you want one Luna?" Hermione asked. Luna might not have been overly friendly, but Hermione could hardly blame her, she had seen how she was used to being treated. Besides, experience told her that the breakfast trolley wouldn't appear for another hour.

The mop of blond hair shook its head without lowering the book. The bones of her small hands pressed white against the skin. She probably just wanted to be left alone Hermione realised, feeling a bit guilty about being so slow on the uptake. Unfortunately, Ron was slower.

"Luna?" Ron said, peering over the book with his usual lack of tact. "Hey I'm Ginny's brother Ron, what you in here for? Did someone do something again? I can go tell them to stop if you like."

Ron smiled. Hermione heard the girl's breath shudder to a stop as Luna shrank away from him, the book coming up like a shield. Ron's brow wrinkled, and he reached a hand to touch the girls shoulder. Luckily Harry a little less oblivious and was fast enough to intercept him.

"We should get out of here before Madam Pomfrey catches us," he said, steering the confused ginger away from Luna's bed. "Bye Hermione, we'll come see you at lunch if you're not freed by then!" The two of them disappeared through the doors.

Hermione looked over at Luna with a worried frown. The girl had burrowed back under her covers, her face turned away. The blankets were trembling.

* * *

After pouring several vile potions down her throat and giving her a stern lecture about the dangers of over-work. Madam Pomfrey let her out mid-way through the second morning lesson. For once, she wasn't even slightly tempted to turn back to take the class. Her feet took her towards the library. She wound between the quiet shelves, so deep in thought she didn't spot the flash of blond hair before she was settled into her favourite armchair.

"What are you doing back here?" she hissed at Malfoy, who was sunbathing on his long-vacated window seat, Malfoy lifted the book that had been shading his face,

"It's a free library, Granger," he said, rolling smoothly upright. He was a good head taller than her. Hermione stepped back, suddenly recalling her trepidation that morning. Harry could be wrong after all and this corner of the library was rarely visited. His eyes raked her from top to toe. "Shouldn't you be in the Hospital Wing?"

"How did you know that?" she asked quickly, trying not to let her discomfort show. Waking up in the Hospital Wing had shaken her more than she had realised. Her bravado from the week before disappeared under the silence of the Library. He gave her one of those condescending looks that really got under her skin.

"Pansy saw Harry carrying you, everybody who was at breakfast knows."

She waited for him to follow it up with some unfunny comment about Harry and herself, but he just stood there looking at her. He was focused on her arm. Hermione looked down, despite Madam Pompheys potions, a faded bracelet of bruises still darkened her wrists. She rubbed them self-consciously, she must have hit the flagstones hard. She turned to go, not having the energy to squabble with Malfoy today, even for her little sanctuary.

Her head shot up as Malfoy brushed past her. She stared after his retreating back, both grateful and confused that he had withdrawn so readily.

Maybe he could show mercy after all.

* * *

"Miss Granger, a word please?"

Hermione winced as McGonagall's voice rang out in the corridor. She turned slowly away from the enticing smells of the Great Hall and followed the Head of House back towards her office. She took the seat that was offered to her, gazing down at the red leather desk. Sitting here always made her feel like she was about to get into trouble about something, which with Harry and Ron as friends, had often been the case.

"How are you feeling?" McGonagall asked, observing her over her steepled fingers.

"Fine," Hermione said quickly. "A little sore and tired," she admitted in the pointed silence that followed.

"I imagine so, after being found collapsed in the corridor," McGonagall said, "how much time did you turn back yesterday?"

"Four or five hours," Hermione said in a small voice, "but that's usually fine, I-"

"Merlin Below. Miss Granger, I gave you the time-turner because I was confident that you could be trusted to use it responsibly, not so you could drive yourself to exhaustion," McGonagall said, speaking over her. Hermione shrank into her seat, her hand hovering protectively over her breast. "I am beginning to think we might have to review this arrangement."

"No!" Hermione said, "I don't want to drop any classes, I can take this as a lesson Professor." She tried to sit up and look less rundown before McGonagall's assessing gaze.

"Overuse of time-turners can be detrimental to your mental state Miss Granger. The consequences of overindulging were made very clear to you. Have you been experiencing any potential side effects: Paranoia? Hallucinations.? Lost time?"

"No," Hermione said, trying to imbue the word with a certainty she didn't feel. A dozen different moments of suspicion flashed across her mind. Her concerns about Harry rose to the forefront. Speaking to a teacher about her worries had always been her back-up plan. Never had she factored in the idea that she might not be credible. McGonagall gave her a long look, Hermione could see the concern lurking in her eyes.

"See that you learn from this Miss Granger and get some rest."

Hermione drifted out of McGonagall's office in a daze. The last few weeks seemed to swim into devastating focus. She contemplated the dreadful possibility that McGonagall had drawn her attention to the one thing that she had forgotten about in her preoccupation with Harry.

Dreadful things happen to Wizards who meddle with time.

McGonagall had given her clear instructions when she had first entrusted her with the time-turner. Rules Hermione had fully intended to keep too. Yet her use of the time-turner had crept up as the year progressed. There was just never enough time. Somewhere along the way she had forgotten the stories of what could happen to Wizards who abused this power. Now it was possible that she had damaged the one thing she had always been able to rely on.

Her mind.

* * *

Ron found her just before the end of lunch, tucked out of sight on the second-floor ramparts. It was a spot invisible to everywhere in the castle. Unless you knew it was there.

"Found you!" he announced, clambering gracelessly out of the third-floor window. They almost certainly shouldn't be up here, but the worn grooves in the stone and the scattering of multicoloured butts told her that generations of students had promptly ignored that for the beautiful view over the lake and the opportunity to smoke weird wizard cigarettes in peace.

"What do you want Ron?" Hermione said shortly, still not done darkly brooding about the state of her brain. Ron gave her the exact condescending look that Malfoy had given her earlier, which didn't improve her mood much.

"You're going to miss class," Ron said and waited for her to scramble up. He gave her a worried look when she didn't move. "Are you feeling OK? Do you need to go back to the hospital wing?" he said, trying to feel her forehead.

"Get off I'm fine," she said, swatting his hand away. "I just don't feel like going to class."

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" Ron said, only looking like he was half joking.

"Ha. Ha."

"But seriously, the idea you're an imposter walking around in Hermione's skin is about as likely as those words coming out of your mouth. What's up?"

"Nothing," she said, tossing a shard of slate off of the wall. Ron just looked at her and waited. "Has Harry seemed… off to you?" she said reluctantly, feeling like a traitor for even bringing it up.

"You noticed that too?" Ron said, and Hermione nearly sagged in relief, shamed at how happy that small shred of confirmation made her. "I mean it's not like I'm not grateful," he said quickly, misreading the complexities of her expression. "He's clearly making an effort to be less of a moody wanker, but it's a bit weird."

"Like he's trying too hard?"

"Yeah," Ron said uncomfortably, prying up his own bit of slate. " I'm glad he makes more time for us."

"And Neville."

"And Neville," Ron agreed, Hermione thought she detected a flicker of jealousy pass across his face. "That's nice of him too. I like laid-back Harry, but sometimes he looks at me and, I dunno, it's like he's looking straight through me."

"Yeah," Hermione said, regret-filled eyes hovering in her memory. She shivered, a sudden coldness overtaking her. In the silence Ron lobbed his piece of slate off the roof. There was a crash and a distant shout that sounded suspiciously like Snape.

They looked at each other.

"Don't look!" Hermione snapped as Ron lent forward to peer down into the courtyard. "Get back through the window, quickly!"

* * *

"What happened to you?" Ron said the moment he saw Harry. Harry grimaced, a fresh bruise was blossoming across his chin.

"Stacked it going down the stairs," he said ruefully. Ron looked from one to the other.

"You know just because there's no school-wide conspiracy to solve this year, doesn't mean you guys need to defend our record for the most visits to the Hospital Wing," he said with mock severity. Harry chuckled and immediately looked like he regretted it, his hand coming up to hover over his tender jaw.

"I deserved this one," he said, poking his jaw with a grimace, "for not looking where I was going."

They filed into History of Magic. If you got past the bone-dry delivery, Professor Binns actually knew a lot about history you didn't find in the textbooks, but for once Hermione didn't feel like making notes. She slid in next to Neville as the class settled down for their afternoon nap.

"How are you?" Neville asked under his breath. He needn't have bothered, Binns had already started up his drone about the Goblin Rebellion of 1406 and he had no need to breathe.

"Recovered," Hermione said, fighting the urge to put her head in her hands like half the class already had. Across from them, Ron had pulled out a pillow. "A bit of a headache."

"I woke up with a cracking headache this morning," Neville said with sympathy. "Perhaps the tower is coming down with something?"

"Maybe," Hermione said absently, she sighed and started searching around for a quill. She was either going to have to take notes or fall asleep. Without something to occupy her, the somnolent effect of Binns' voice was going to have her snoring in the middle of class. Besides he as talking about Grimjaw the Teller and he was a interesting figure in Goblin history.

"Here take mine," Neville said good naturedly, "I'm not going to be able to fight a nap."

Hermione wasn't listening. She was staring at the bruises encircling his wrist.

* * *

Hermione couldn't believe she had fallen asleep in the library. Granted it has been a long day by any standard, ever hers. But if she was going to cut back her use of the time turner she could not afford to take six hour afternoon naps. Apparently her little cubby hole was so out of the way that no one had come across her.

She had woken up with a head full of cotton wool and a nasty crick in her neck. She bemoaned her whole day as she headed to the Hall. It was a few minutes to midnight. She hurried towards the long stair, it would lead her straight to the tower if she could get up it fast enough.

She could not. The midnight bell echoed through the quiet castle. With a grinding of stone the stairway slid away from her destination, turning her short-cut into a treck from the other side of castle. She sighed.

She walked quickly along the corridor clutching her half finished homework to her chest. The corridor curved gently to the right as she passed sleeping portraits and classroom doors. She had not been up here since finding the strange spellfire. She wondered if that troll had found his friends.

There was a noise from just around the bend. Hermione hesitated. Stepping into the shadows of a suit of armour she fingered her wand. With today's luck it would probably be be Filch or the Slytherin prefect and she'd end up losing a dozen points for Gryffindor

It was not footsteps. Hermione frowned. She stowed her scrolls and drew her wand. It sounded like someone was dragging something heavy along the ground. There was few night candles burning this far from the student Houses. The corridor was lit by striped moonlight and deep shadow. Hermione kept her back to the wall and slid closer, her wand clutched in her fist. She was either being paranoid or stupid or both she told herself as she crept forward, it was likely to either get her into trouble or be none of her business.

Still, it wasn't a very innocent sound.

The spell-damage must be almost in sight. She paused. The dragging sound was drawing closer. She stepped back into a shadow, her heart hammering. There was the suggestion of movement. Hermione froze. Limbs moved in and out of existence as they dragged something tightly rolled across the stone floor. It was about the size of a child and about as heavy. Grunting and muttering the apparition pulled it's load past a strip of moonlight.

"Harry?"

The words came out before thought. Harry spun, the cloak dropping from his shoulders. The dark red spell smoldering at the end of his wand lit her pale face. She flinched away from the line of fire.

"Hermione? Merlin you made me jump," Harry said, his tense stance relaxing. He lowered his wand with an apologetic look.

"I frightened you?" Hermione said her voice rising. She dropped back to a whisper as Harry shushed her. "What on earth are you doing skulking around at this time of night?"

Harry hesitated. He looked back what he'd dropped. She crossed her arms, unable to shake the tension that was winding itself through her body. She was still clutching her wand. Harry turned back. His eyes reflecting the red of his smoldering wand.

"It's a magic carpet."

"What?" Hermione blinked, utterly thrown.

"It's a magic carpet," Harry repeated rubbing the back of his neck. With a whisper his wand brightened to the cool clear light of a Lumos.

"Harry," Hermione said pinching the bridge if her nose. A whole new type of tension running through her. "Where on earth did you get a magic carpet?"

"It was in lost and found."

"Hogwarts doesn't have a lost and found."

"Well, it was lost and I found it."

Hermione gave him a hard look, but received only a charmed grin in return. "And what do you plan to do with it?" she said with resignation.

"I'm going to test it out," he said.

"Why on earth would you do that?" she said, practicing at being less paranoid. Though really the fact Ron was not along for this little misadventure was a red flag all by itself. Harry gave her a look.

"Hermione, _it's a flying carpet_."

He had a point. She thought looking down at the rolled up carpet. "Isn't it illegal to fly one?"

"Only in muggle airspace," Harry said smugly. "Totally fine if we stay in the grounds. Not that this antique has tracking chams anyway."

"We?"

"Of course, Hermione," Harry said with a growing grin that spelt trouble, " _let me show you the wooorl-"_

"Shhhh. I am not getting on that thing, it looks a hundred years old," Hermione said, but she felt her own tugging at the side of her mouth. The world of her childhood often felt far away within the confines of the castle and in the company children who had never even heard of Disney. Yet despite being a resident for going in three years there was still a stirring of delight at the idea of a magic carpet.

Harry had picked up one end and was dragging it towards the end window. His invisibility cloak, slung carelessly over one shoulder, making half his torso disappear. She followed him for a few yards before sighing and picking out the other end, it really was quite heavy.

"The spells are woven into the weave. So long as the carpet is in good condition, the spellwork is reliable," Harry said with the voice of an expert.. Hermione rolled her eyes as they lugged it down the corridor.

"Why are you not levitating it?"

"One of the downsides they can't themselves be enchanted," Harry said, a bit out of breath. They had reached a window wide enough to unfurl the carpet. Hermione made one last token effort.

"Harry this is stupid, we'll get into trouble."

Harry ignored her as he shook out the carpet. A plume of dust rose as is unfurled down the side of the castle wall. It was heavy and was almost pulled out of their hands. The carpet snapped open and the woven pattern shimmered slightly. Hermione had to let go as it rotated in the air until it was parallel with the ground far too many stories below.

Harry, with no regard for the long drop, scrambled out if the window. The carpet did not move an inch as he climbed on board. He sat and placed a hand onto a shape woven into the pattern. The carpet responded, drifting closer to the window ledge.

"Come on Hermione," he said with a roguish smile. "Do you trust me?"

Hermione wondered when the answer had become more complicated than yes. Instinctively she shied away from the narrow ledge and his outstretched hand. Harry's smile dimmed. Hermione took a breath, there was a look in his eye that made her think he needed this more than she did. Not looking down, she scrambled onto the window ledge. The carpet was large and solid as she pulled herself onto it but she couldn't forget how very thin it was and how high up she was.

Still she was on a magic carpet.

Hermione felt a grin creep onto her face. The night was clear and cool and the stars shone brilliantly above them.

"We're going to be seen."

"Such a lack of faith."

Harry touched a part of the twisting pattern. Hermione shrieked as the carpet disappeared from beneath her. Below her crossed legs there was nothing but the courtyard seven stories below. She looked up. Harry was gone.

The soft of the carpet was beneath her hands. Hermione held onto that as she tried to quell her hammering heart. She looked up to where Harry had been and narrowed her eyes.

"I should push you off for that."

Harry laughed as he pulled off his cloak.

"Cool isn't it?"

"Turn it off," Hermione said, shuddering at the long drop. "I don't care if it's more risky, I can't fly like this."

The carpet materialised. Harry touched another symbol and she found herself fastened to it.

"I really don't want to die Harry," Hermione said, well squeaked, as the carpet moved gently forward. Harry's smile changed a little.

"Trust me."

Hermione tried too.

The wind cut through her cloak. Hermione took out her wand and wrapped a cone of warm air around then.

They rose towards Gryffindors tower. Hogwarts glittered beneath them, the dark towers rose like a mighty forest towards the stars. The awe she had felt aged eleven when staring across that great lake came back to her. Harry flew the carpet as well as he flew everything else. Hermione felt herself relaxing as the giddy joy welled within her at such a spectacular sight.

The lights in the tower winked at them as they glided around its girth. Hermione found their dormitory windows, lit by flickering candle light.

"It would be funny to knock on Ron's window," she said on impulse, unable to quell the grin stretching across her face.

"Hermione, to suggest such a thing!" Harry said, his grin matching her own. "Anyway if we did the whole tower would know I found this and I want to hold onto it a bit longer." Hermione knew she should object to this, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Harry turned to look at her. "Ready to be a bit more adventurous?"

"Hmm?"

Hermione tuned in time to see the moonlight glinting off his teeth. Harry shifted his fingers and Hermione felt her stomach and the carpet drop from beneath her.

She had no breath to scream as the carpet swooped up over the battlements and down towards the lake. Harry laughed as he pulled them up feet from it's moonlit surface.

"You are just the worst sometimes," Hermione said after her heart had clambered back down from her throat.

"Admit it, flying has its moments."

She slid gingerly towards the edge of the carpet and lent over. The water rushed by beneath them. She lowered her hand and let the cool water fountain around her fingers.

"Yeah it can have its moments," Hermione said looking at the stars above.

Harry gilded them in a lazy circle around the lake. Hermione admired Hogwarts from a more familiar angle. It was still just as magnificent. She wondered what her life would have been like had this world had not opened its doors to her.

It didn't bare thinking about.

She turned to Harry who was staring out towards the forbidden forest. There was something troubling in his gaze. Hermione hesitated, it had been a while since she last had been alone with him and there were questions she had avoided for a long time.

"Harry... Are you alright?" she asked.

Her words shook Harry from whatever brooding thoughts he had been entertaining.

"What do you mean?" he asked, watching her.

"It's just, you've seemed troubled lately, not yourself." Hermione said, minutely studying the carpet by his foot. She looked up as Harry let out an rough chuckle.

"It's been hard to know who that is lately," he said almost to himself as he stared across the dark water.

"I know,"

"Who then?" There was something mocking in his tone as he turned to look at her.

"A good friend." Hermione wished she had something more inspiring to say. "Who always tried to do the right thing." Harry's smile turned bitter.

"The right thing," Harry said, addressing his question to the stars. "How do you know what's the right thing Hermione?"

"What?"

"What if you did the right thing, and the consequences were terrible. What if you did a terrible thing to produce lasting good?" he said watching her. There was something serious in his tone.

"I guess you would have to quantify it." Hermione said slowly, searching his face. Harry nodded, his eyes sad.

"I thought that might be your answer."

Harry lent forward and the rug picked up speed. If he intended to distract her he did a good job, this time as the carpet zoomed upwards. It was less like a broom and more like a rollercoaster she told herself as they climbed above the parapet. It was beginning to feel more like a pleasant thrill than a terrifying one. They were close to the owlery. The sight of the soft shapes gliding silently beneath them had the intended effect. Harry drifted them towards the tip of the spire. The owls fluttered around them like misplaced shadows.

Hermione hugged her knees. Hogwarts was no less beautiful yet she didn't see it.

"You set fire to the seventh floor corridor." It was supposed to be a question, but it came out a statement. She knew it was true.

"I did not," Harry said, his smile becoming brittle.

"Malfoy then," she said out into the darkness. "Why?"

"Hermione…" Harry looked away

"Why won't you tell me?" she said. It was like knocking on a door that refused to open. It hurt. He was closed to her in a way he had never been before. "I'm your friend, I'd follow you anywhere."

Harry looked honestly startled for a moment, before that slightly twisted smile was back. She realised he wasn't going to tell her. For whatever noble reason he had come up with.

"I know you would Hermione." He said staring up at the stars. They sat there, the silence only disturbed by the soft sounds of the owls below.

"About Black-"

"Sirius' day will come," said Harry, his tone edged with grim determination. "Hermione please drop it. I want us to keep this nice memory." Hermione looked out across the spires and roofs of Hogwarts and tried not to care about all he wasn't saying.

Neville couldn't remember where he had acquired his bruises, and that bothered Hermione more than a bit. She should dismiss it as a coincidence, after all, Neville was known for being unfortunately clumsy at times.

Her fingers ghosting over the barely visible marks on her wrists.

But he couldn't remember where he got them from and neither could she.

The first thing she'd do usually would be talk to Harry and Ron. They had always been there for her. Yet looking across at Harry she felt the weight of all that was unsaid between them.

Of course, there was the other possibility.

The time turner hung under her robes. Suspicions about her closest friends could be a symptom. She had to contemplate the possibility of creeping paranoia. She curled further into herself.

She had never felt unable to trust herself before. It was terrifying.

"Hey are you okay? Shall we go back?"

Hermione looked into Harry's concerned eyes. She tried to recall and catalogue what exactly had fueled her half formed suspicions about him and even, at times, Malfoy. The sense of wrongness that had seemed so convincing at the time boiled down to little. Especially when weighted against all they had been through together.

Yet the whispers of suspicion could not be banished so easily.

Harry banked the carpet around and gilded them towards Gryffindor tower. Hermione tried to focus on the last minutes of her magic carpet ride. It really was a new fantastic point of view.

* * *

 **SIRIUS BLACK CAUGHT!**

The headline shone from every newspaper at the breakfast table. The hall was awash with speculation as students and teachers alike huddled over large Sunday copies The Daily Prophet. Hermione rushed over to where Neville and Lavender were sharing a paper. She snatched it up, heedless of their grumbling.

 _Ministry Aurors captured notorious murderer Sirius Black last night. Azkaban's first ever escapee was apprehended after months on the run in an extended duel at the Black's ancestral home in London. Ministry officials staking out the house responded to a tripped motion spell fought a protracted battle with Black and his accomplices who later escaped by unknown means…_

"Has anyone seen Harry?" Hermione asked as Lavender grabbed her paper back.

"No," said Neville.

Hermione scanned the long table but Harry was not among the breakfasters. She had seen little of him since their friday night excursion. She caught a glimpse of red hair. To her surprise it wasn't Ginny, but Ron sloping in it was nearly ten, but he almost never woke up for weekend breakfasts at all, particularly Sunday. She waved away the questions of her friends and made her way to where he was slumping into a the closest bench.

"Have you seen Harry?" she asked without preamble.

"He wasn't in bed when I woke up," Ron said through a yawn. "Why?" Hermione pointed to the nearest newspaper. "Bugger."

"Do you think he's seen it?" Hermione asked.

"If he stepped into the Great Hall he was bound to," Ron said looking around. "It'll make his day, won't it?" He didn't sound sure and neither was she. It should be good news, but neither of them could guess whether it would be taken that way.

"I'm going to see if I can find him." Hermione said, unable to shake that uneasy feeling.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Ron said, eyeing his breakfast.

* * *

"Parvati, have you seen Harry?" She asked the girl exciting from the portrait hole.

"I think so… Yeah I saw him and Ginny near the second floor loos." The girl said, gesturing with her toast.

"Brilliant thanks!"

"It was a while ago though! Parvati called after Hermione as she hurried away.

Despite her haste, he wasn't on the second floor any longer. The library seemed unlikely, but she had already circled the castle once. He wasn't in their usual study area. She wandered between the shelves. Her feet taking her to her usual alcove.

There was a body in there.

Hermione's heart jumped to her throat as she rushed towards the prone figure. She tugged the damp cloak back with trembling fingers.

"Harry?"

"Five more minutes you bushy-haired harpy," it mumbled. Hermione jumped back as if burned as Malfoy's blond hair came into view.

"Malfoy?"

The boy cracked open one eye. "Granger? It's too early to study, even for you. Go away."

He tried to pull the cloak back over himself but Hermione did not release it. In the early morning light she could see that Malfoy looked like he has been dragged through a disused classroom. On his face.

"What on earth happened to you?"

"None of your business. Give me my cloak." Hermione narrowed her eyes and yanked it out of his weak grip. "Merlin Hermione if you wanted me to strip you could just ask."

"Gross and not funny. Why are you messed up and hiding in the library?" She looked him over with something like worry, his dark clothes only partially hid the fact that Malfoy had taken a battering. It looked like he had been dabbing dittany on the worst of it. The parts he could reach anyway. The half open bottle lay by his feet. He had not, she noted with disapproval, washed them out first.

"I am guessing there is a reason you aren't going to Madam Pomfrey? Again?" Malfoy looked away and Hermione cursed stupid boys and their stupid secrets.

"None of your-"

"Yeah yeah I get it. Turn around and- Jesus I can't believe I'm saying this, take your shirt off."

That woke Malfoy up. He sat quickly and winced, curling into his side. "Seriously Granger I was just joking."

"Shut up. If you close the skin without cleaning it out you're going to give yourself an infection," Hermione said, deliberately keeping her voice as clinical as possible. She didn't examine her urge to help too closely. True, he hadn't been completely awful lately, but a few civil conversations could hardly make up for his usual… self. Still, she could be charitable. So long as Ron never found out about it. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her and waved his wand. Hermione felt the illusion settle on the gap behind her. She turned to find the exit was now a wall of unbroken books.

Hermione was nothing if not stubborn. She refused to let her discomfort show. He sighed and tried to struggle out of his jumper. He seemed to having trouble lifting his arms, She helped him pull it over his bruised ribs without comment. Cuts and scrapes littered his pale skinny back. On a Muggle they would require hospital treatment, here most could be fixed in moments.

They still had to hurt.

"We need to wash these," she said going to get up. A hand on her wrist stopped her.

"Dobby!"

Hermione squeaked as a short green figure appeared with a loud pop. The strangely dressed creature scowling at Malfoy approximated what she had imagined houselves to look like from Harry's description. She couldn't have imagined the eclectic collection of muggle clothes it wore, including a very long Hogwarts scarf. It had to be the same Dobby Harry had told her about. The one who had been a servant of the Malfoys.

"Bring me a Healing Case and some boiled water won't you?"

"Dobby works for wages now. As a free elf," the little green man said almost hopping up and down. "Dobby does not have to listen to you!"

"But you were asked too," Malfoy said with a meaningful look. Dobby couldn't have looked more hostile to the suggestion.

"Dobby." Hermione interrupted. Dobby turned his enormous eyes on her. "I'm Hermione, a friend of Harry's. We really need those supplies. Could you please bring them?"

Immediately, Dobby's eyes welled with tears. Apparently, Harry had not been exaggerating that part.

"Hermione Granger is such a good friend of Harry Potter. She wrote so many summer letters to him. Dobby will help, for the true friend of Harry Potter." With a final dirty look towards Malfoy, the little elf popped away.

"So that's a house elf," Hermione said for something to say. It felt a lot more awkward to be sitting on the floor with a half dressed Slytherin now it had been witnessed.

"Of course, have you never seen one?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione felt herself bristle at the implication. Before she could open her mouth to comment on his superior tone, Dobby popped in, dropped a leather case and a pail of water and popped out again. The case looked like something from the 1920s. It fanned out to display dozens of travel sized potion bottles.

"The blue bottle is Purification potion, three drops in the water," Malfoy grunted. The water turned a light lavender.

It had to hurt, but Malfoy made no sound as she helped him wash the ground-in dirt from various cuts and grazes. That suited her fine, she didn't much feel like talking to the prickly Slytherin. The dittany closed most of the wounds, though the careful way he moved spoke of pain. Malfoy seemed well acquainted with the various potions available and he used them with an easy familiarity. She didn't know if that was a troubling sign or not.

"What are you even doing here?" Malfoy finally asked as he struggled back into his shirt.

"I was looking for Harry, have you seen him?" Hermione asked, the blond boy at least owed her that much. Malfoy's movements stilled.

"You can't find him?"

"Nobody seems to have seen him since morning. With the Pro- well, I want to check on him," Hermione said vanishing the accumulated pile of stained cloth.

"Have you been unable to find... anyone else?"

"What?"

"You should probably keep looking Granger." Malfoy said quietly, his attention somewhere else. Hermione scowled as she stood up, but she shouldn't have expected a thank you from Malfoy. He picked up a ruby red potion from the case and upended it into his open mouth. He sighed and rose, his body moving easier. "Excuse me, I need to go see someone." Then he strode right past her. There was something foreboding in his features that stilled her indignant tongue.

At least until he was out of earshot.

"... Twat."

She looked down at the case of potions and wondered exactly what she was going to do with it. Malfoy hadn't bothered to think about that.

"Dobby?" she called uncertainty. She had no idea how Malfoy had summoned him. There was silence. Hermione picked it up with a frown of annoyance, perhaps the hospital wing would take it.

There was a pop from behind her, She turned.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" Hermione asked. The small elf was clutching a washing bag with Gryffindor's crest on it. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the smell. Dobby stared at the floor, his small face drawn together.

"Dobby was just doing a favour," the elf said quietly, his large grey ears drooping. "Dobby came as soon as he could."

"That's ok, what's in there?" Hermione couldn't help asking.

"Clothes that need washing Hermione Granger. Dobby works at Hogwarts." The elf said holding up the bag a proof. Hermione took a step back as the smell of long stagnant water wafted towards her.

She stared at the bag with chagrin. She had always assumed that the clothes were cleaned by magic. It had never occurred to her someone might be washing them. A castle like this would take hundreds to run it. She suddenly had a dozen questions, but she was already trespassing on his time. She had heard Harry's account of things, yet she had never thought deeply about what him 'freeing' Dobby implied.

A lot more unpleasant questions bubbled to the surface of her mind.

"Yes, well I was just hoping you could take this bag back to where you got it." Hermione asked awkwardly, wondering if she should ask if everything was alright. The elf seemed subdued compared to his earlier furious indignation at Malfoy's request, his enormous eyes troubled.  
"Of course Hermione Granger, a true friend of Harry Potter can have a favour from Dobby. Harry Potter is good and kind and would never do anything to hurt anyone." The elf said almost to himself. Then he picked up the case with his free hand. "I'll be going now Hermione Granger," he said. He popped away. Hermione stared after him.

* * *

Hermione slowed as she spotted Ron outside of McGonagall's office. It was a Sunday but she was likely inside. Still Ron did not knock. He sifted from foot to foot, his face drawn.

Hermione sighed, she knew what this was about.

Hermione slowed as she spotted Ron hovering outside of McGonagalls door. It was a Sunday but she was likely to still be inside. Still Ron did not knock. He shifted from foot to foot his face twisted in undisguised anguish.

Hermione sighed, she knew what this was about.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" She asked quietly as she reached him. Ron's head jerked up from studying the flagstone floor.

"There's probably no point," he mumbled, staring at the office door. There was a large crack in it that had not been there before. "She's told me before she would come get me if there was news."

"It's been over a week, surly..." Hermione trailed off, not sure what to think of the whole disturbing situation.

"Perhaps Scabbers is dead and they just won't tell me," Ron said, misery etched into the lines of his face. "Hard as I try Hermione, I can't think of why anyone would want to hurt him like that."

Hermione felt something twist inside her as Ron turned away so she wouldn't see the water gathering in his eyes.

"Well there is no price on asking," she said in her most brisk voice. She stepped forward and knocked before Ron could think to stop her. She really didn't want to face McGonagall again after her dressing down but she was not about to leave Ron to do this alone.

The door swung open. Hermione could see that McGonagall had not even looked up from the long piece of parchment she was writing on. Next to her was the days Prophet, open to the page detailing Sirius Black's capture. His familiar mugshot screamed silently at them.. A shot of a figure being dragged from a burning townhouse took up much of the rest of the page.

"Professor?" Ron said, his voice hesitantly breaking the sounds of quiet scribbling.

"Yes Mr Weasley?" McGonagall lay down her quill. Hermione's eyes were drawn back to the newspaper as she gently pushed Ron up to the desk. She was quiet good at reading upside down.

 _Questions have been raised as to how Sirius Black's accomplices escaped despite extensive anti-apperition wards. The pair incapacitated several Aurors in an attempt to reach Black. Rumours of underaged magic-_

"I want to know about Scabbers," Ron blurted out, eyes remaining downwards.

Unfortunately McGonagall looked like she had even less time for his questions than he had had all week. She drew a blank piece of parchment across the ministry headed missive she had been writing, but not before Hermione's keen eyes had picked out some familiar names.

"I apologise for the delay Mr Weasley." McGonagall said. She looked tired, lines of stress furrowed into her brow. "Your parents have been informed about recent developments." She looked at Ron's dejected face and her stern expression softened. "I can tell you that Mr- Scabbers is no longer trapped within the Subjugation Jar. He is alive and well. This matter has passed out of my hands."

"You can't just take him and not tell me anything about it!" Ron said, frustration bleeding into his voice. Hermione put her hand on his arm.

"Mr Weasley, as I told Mr Potter this morning I can give you no more information about the state of affairs," their professor said in a clipped tone. "

"You've seen Harry?" They both looked at her. McGonagall sighed.

"Mr Potter was here first thing this morning demanding to know the status of your.. rat." She said, straightening up her desk. "I told him as I am telling you, we are working hard to detangle this sorry state of affairs Particularly in light of recent developments." Her hands passed over the paperwork strewn desk. " She looked over her glasses at the two of them. "I appreciate this is no answer, but I would also appreciate it if the two of you do not storm out of my office. I would rather not remove even more housepoints from my own house today." Her eyes focused on her damaged door and she fixed it with an irritable wave of her wand.

There was nothing to do but shuffle back out. The door clicked firmly shut behind them.

"I'm sure the teachers would tell us if they could," Hermione said as Ron kicked the stone wall.

He snorted. "She just wanted us out of our office so she could focus Black, did you see what she was writing?" Hermione had. She frowned, McGonagall was one of the few who knew the story of Black's betrayal of Harry and his parents. Harry did not need yet another part of his his painful past being dredged up for public consumption.

"It must be important," Hermione said. Ron did not look convinced.

"Mind you it's nice that Harry had been staying on her case about it," he said, "bit weird though, you would have thought he'd be upset about Black, not about Scabbers, considering..."

"You would have thought it would be good news."Hermione said trying to keep the conversation away from scabbers.

"We both know Harry's been nursing revenge fantasies since he found out about Blacks betrayal. He'll get over it once that basted can get slammed back in Azkaban where he belongs," Ron said, as they headed for the Entrance Hall.

"Ron," Hermione, said reprovingly as they wandered towards Neville and a few other Gryffindors. She tried to shrug off her concern for Harry as Ron had done. If he really didn't want to be found there was little she could do.

"What? He is."

"I wonder why Black risked going back to his house? He had to know it was being watched."

Ron shrugged. "The Blacks are an old, dark family. The house is supposed to be chock full of nasty magical artifacts. Dads been trying to get a warrant for the place for years but the Goblins keep things all tied up in legalese."

"Or he could be out of money." Hermione speculated, "Being on the run has got to be expensive."

"I guess it doesn't matter now. Everyone will be more interested in who his accomplices are."

"Veritaserum, will answer that soon enough," Hermione said as they drew closer to the group.

Neville spotted the and waved them over. "Hey guys, look what I found!" he held up the rememball he had been given their first year. The mist inside glowed a dark sluggish red.

"Is it helping you remember what you forgot?" Hermione asked as they reached him.

"Nope," Neville said with good cheer, "But I definitely forgot it. Here!" Hermione fumbled the catch, Ron neatly caught it as it bounce off her fingers. He gave her a smug look as the mist turned a clear white.

"What's the use then?" Hermione asked, honestly puzzled a the utility of such a device.

"Supposedly they are used to narrow down the forgotten memory. For example I can think hard whether I've forgotten any homework for tomorrow." Neville plucked the ball from Ron's hands and frowned in concentration. Immediately the ball turned strawberry red. "Well that's worrying," Neviille said, regarding his ball. "But then I've never really got the hang of it. Here."

This time Hermione caught it. The ball immediately turned the darkest red.

"Oh dear," Ron sniggered looking at it, "you're going to have Hermione in knots trying to remember what homework she's forgotten." Hermione stared down at the ball, her stomach was indeed tying itself in knots. There was only one thing she wanted to remember. She tried to think how to narrow her fears down.  
 _  
Have I forgotten something… something important?  
_  
The ball stayed dark red though Hermione had no idea if she was doing it right _._

 _Something… something bad?_

 _Something dangerous?_

 _Was I attacked?_

"Some Ravenclaw is attacking Harry Potter!"

The gaggle of Gryffindors stared at their panting housemate. Hermione was still staring at the dark red ball when as her friends surged forward. The encircling walkway was crowded with peeking students. Ron and Neville shoved them to the front, ignoring the grumblings of the rest of the audience. Hermione pushed the rememball back into Nevilles hands and lent over the railing.

Luna faced Harry in a hastily deserted courtyard. She was still in her hospital robes. Harry held a beseeching hand out to her.

"Just let me explai-"

Luna's wand moved. Harry dived before the final syllable left his lips as something that warped the air around it hit the courtyard wall. Hermione and the rest of the students clapped their hands over their ears as the courtyard rang like a bell. Hermione could feel her teeth vibrate.

Harry cast a shimmering bubble around his head. Hermione could see his lips moving soundlessly. Luna didn't even try to talk. Her face was as still as stone. Her eyes never left Harry's. She lifted her wand, her mouth opening. Harry's hand moved and a wave of wet snow swept Luna off her feet. The sound mercifully stopped. Hermione took her hands from her ears. The air was suddenly sharp and dry.

"Merlin, she really is nutters." Ron said as the girl rolled to her feet, her cloak white and wet. "Do you think we should help?"

"Don't you dare Ronnykins, we've already taken bets for this." Twin hands landed on each of his shoulders. Ron rolled his eyes at his brothers. Hermione looked on worriedly. The two of them looked ragged, Harry more so, he swayed slightly on his feet he looked almost as bad Malfoy had. She caught a glimpse of blond hair in the crowd. Malfoy was watching the fight, his wand drawn. for one wild moment she wondered if she should warn Harry about the second wand at his back. There was a vicious satisfaction on the Slytherins face but he made no move to cast.

"Little Luna is fast, what has our Harry done to piss her off I wonder?" George said speculatively. Perhaps Luna really had earned her uncharitable nickname, Hermione thought. The girl didn't look inclined to stop, no matter what Harry tried to say.

The courtyard looks like Christmas. Down below Luna twisted and cast as she moved. The snow around her shifted and refroze into hundreds of marble sized ice balls. There was an oooh from makeshift audience. For a moment the courtyard looked incredibly pretty.

Harry was already moving. They hammered down on his shield like the devil's hail. Ice cracked and splintered on the flagstones. Some bounced upwards under his shield, hitting some sensitive places from the sounds of his manly yelps. First year spells used with devastating effectiveness.

Hermione reckoned Luna was going to get less hassle after this.

Harry's wand moved. The balls abruptly melted, turning Luna's assault into the gentle patter of rain. He tilted his head up, letting the water wash the grime from his face as if he expected his opponent to wait for him. She did. He said something softly through the falling water, his eyes on hers. Luna stilled and for a moment Hermione thought it was over. Then she saw Luna close her eyes.

It was a percussive slap that smacked Harry sideways. Harry used the momentum to dive. He shot a spell Hermione was intimately familiar with and Luna floated flailing into the air.

Luna twisted and got purchase on the statue behind her. She kicked off and shot towards Harry with one hand raised and ready.

The assembled students winced as the cracking sound of her fist hitting his cheek echoed around the courtyard. Harry reeled backwards as Luna dropped to the cobblestones. Harry staggered, hand to his face.

"I'm not saying I didn't deserve that."

Luna's expression did not waver. Her eyes held a look that made Harry look away. Hermione could hear the teachers voices as they approached. He didn't raise his wand as Luna raises hers.

Snapes stunner caught Luna in the back. Harry cast before McGonagall could stop him. His silver spell caught Luna before she fell and settled her gently on the ground.

Ron spoke into the silence.

"What the hell was that all about?"


	4. Four

**Four**

* * *

It was approaching midnight. Hermione staggered back to the common room. Between the news about Sirius and Harry's fight with Luna, she had gotten little work done, but she was too tired to even think of turning back time. She'd get up early and tackle her Arithmancy homework in the morning. Harry had disappeared again once he had been let out of the Hospital Wing. Hermione couldn't blame him. The questioning from both teachers and students had yet to abate. Luna wasn't talking, she seemed to have sunk back into the listless malaise that had kept her in the Hospital Wing in the first place. Neither of them seemed bothered by the house-points they had lost nor the detention they were going have to spend mucking out the Flobberworm enclosures.

McGonagall had been not been amused.

The Fat Lady was not happy to be woken from her snooze. Hermione pushed the grumbling portrait aside. Harry had probably already snuck off to bed. It sounded like a good idea to her.

A sound caught her attention. Hermione's steps stopped. The common room was deserted. She hesitated, looking longingly towards the stairs and her bed. Somewhere in the castle the great clock struck twelve. She placed a foot on the step. A soft sob followed her out of the darkness. She sighed and turned back. The low fire was the only light left burning. The clusters of high backed chairs made it hard to pinpoint the sound.

Another noise came from behind. Someone was staggering down the boys staircase. Hermione felt the air go out of her as a dark, solid figure tripped down the last few steps and landed right on top of her.

"Oof, buggering hell, sorry about that." The dark figure helped her up. The firelight highlighted familiar features.

"Neville?" Hermione said quietly, massaging her hip. Neville peered at her for a moment.

"Is that you Hermione?" he whispered, a smile spreading across his face. "Sorry about that, in a bit of a daze." He was already in rumpled pyjamas. He looked around the common room, smile widening. It was unnatural to be so cheerful at this time of night. A muffled hiccup drew their attention. Hermione scanned the shadowed chairs as Neville stepped forward, wand in hand.

Brown eyes peered out at them from around one of the large fire-facing armchairs. A cascade of red hair identified her even in the low light.

"Ginny?" Hermione said, hurrying over, "Whats wrong?"

Ginny's eyes were red-rimmed, and her hair stuck to her damp cheeks. "Hermione? It happened again!" The younger girl said, burying her head into the cushion.

"What happened?" Hermione said, placing a hand on her trembling shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" Neville said. He lit his wand with a whispered word. The cool white light illuminating the three of them. Ginny looked rumpled and distressed but not harmed.

"I don't remember!"

Hermione felt herself go cold. "What?"

"I don't remember. I woke up this afternoon and I smelt of that place and… and I don't remember anything."

"Of where?" Hermione asked. She gently stroke the girls clenched hands. Ginny relaxed a little, and Hermione trailed her hand further up the younger girl's wrists, nudging Ginny's sleeve out of the way.

No bruises.

"Of the Chamber," Ginny whispered into the cushions. "It's just like last year, waking up with mud splattered robes and that stagnant smell clinging to everything. Not knowing what you did the night before."

Oh. Hermione tried not to let pity show on her face. Last year had been hard for a lot of people, but none more so than Ginny. It was easy to forget just what she had gone through. Ginny certainly never brought it up. Still such a thing had to leave a mark.

"The Diary was destroyed," she said, glancing at Neville. The details of Ginny's involvement were not common knowledge, but he asked no questions. His attention was focused solely on the girl in front of them. His mouth set in a grim line. "Harry shoved a Basilisk fang right through it. Dumbledore told him it's power was completely destroyed."

"But what if he was wrong?" Ginny said, her voice hollow. "Sometimes I dream that he's hiding inside me still, waiting." Hermione wondered if anyone had ever actually spoken to Ginny about what had happened at all, or if they had all just thought it best forgotten.

If there was no such thing as wizard therapists she might have to invent the profession.

"Do you remember going to bed last night?" Hermione asked carefully. Ginny nodded, hiccuping slightly as her breathing came back under control. "Did you wake up with mud all over you?"

"No, but I slept so late, and all my clothes were folded and fresh when I woke up."

"That could have been the house elves," Hermione murmured, thinking of Dobby. Neither Ginny nor Neville looked particularly surprised at the mention of house elves in the castle, but then they were both purebloods.

"Sometimes stuff like smells can trigger flashbacks to when something bad has happened," Neville said, his voice soft. He caught her look of supprise. "My grandmother fought in Gindelwald's War, It could happen to her sometimes at with sudden noises," he added.

"But I can smell it!" Ginny said, thrusting a lock of her long hair towards them.

"A lot of people got wet watching Harry and Luna's fight," Hermione said soothingly, bringing the girls wrist down to her lap. "Your bed is right by the coat racks by the dorm door isn't it? I bet there were a lot of damp cloaks there around the time you woke up."

"I guess… I might have gotten worked up for nothing." Ginny said looking down, "Wait, Harry and Luna fought? Why?" They both looked at her.

"Uh, I'm not sure exactly," She said, glancing at Neville for help.

"But you said they didn't know each other," Ginny said. It came out like an accusation.

"I didn't think they did," Hermione said. Evidently she had been wrong. Anyone with half a brain could tell that duel had been personal. What it had been about she could not begin to fathom. Harry had made it quite clear he was not about to talk about it, as he had hovered over Luna's stunned body in the Hospital Wing. McGonagall had docked more points. He hadn't cared in the slightest.

She wondered if there was any point in expecting an explanation from him.

"Luna is very straight-forward about certain things," Neville said quietly, as he looked at Ginny.

"You know her?" Hermione asked.

Neville shrugged. "She's a pureblood," he said. Ginny nodded as if that explained everything.

"Did anyone get hurt?"

"I don't think they were trying to hurt each other," Hermione said. "At least not seriously," she amended, remembering the sound of Luna's fist connecting with Harry's cheek. Neville snorted. Hermione eyed him for a moment but this was not the time to ask.

Ginny looked ready to ask more questions that Hermione didn't have any answers for. Neville interrupted her. He reached down and touched her forehead with the back of his hand.

"If you are still feeling bad maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey just to be sure. You've had a fright Gin, maybe she can help reassure you you're just you," Neville said. Hermione glanced sideways at him, but what he heard he would never spread.

"Or Dumbledore," Hermione said, unease still lurking in the back of her mind.

"Madam Pomfrey might have some Soothing Drought," Ginny murmured. She took Neville's offered hand and he pulled her to her feet.

"I'll go with you," Neville said softly taking her arm as she swayed on her feet.

"I'll come," Hermione said.

Neville eyed her. "No offense Hermione, but you look half dead. Go to bed, I'll take care of it."

"But-"

"Go, I'll be fine with Neville," Ginny said, already looking more like her usual self. "At least one of us should get some decent sleep."

Hermione didn't have it in her to protest further, she stumbled back towards the stairs and was asleep before her head his the pillow.

* * *

Ginny seemed better the next morning. Hermione smiled at her as she sat down next to Ron for breakfast. The girl was sitting with her year-mates. Apparently the trip to Madam Pomfrey had done the trick.

"Morning." Hermione said as Harry slunk in to sit beside her. "Coming out of hiding at last?"

Harry didn't smile. He poked his food around his plate, his mind elsewhere. There was a certain amount of whispering going on around them. Hermione casually turned her head to look at the Ravenclaw table. Luna sat with her back to them, surrounded by her classmates. It seemed that knocking about the Boy-Who-Lived had gained her a measure of notoriety amongst her peers. Hermione could tell by the set of her shoulders she was not enjoying it.

The owls swooped down with the mornings post. Neville opened the front page of the Prophet and promptly choked on his orange juice. He shot a glance at Harry. Hermione peered over his shoulder. The front page was still full of Sirius Black, a lurid piece citing 'anonymous sources' claiming his original conviction was invalid. Hermione stopped reading as Neville turned the page. The Prophet was going to squeeze every ounce of blood it could from this story. She hoped those sources didn't find the link to their Boy-Who-Lived. This Skeeter woman would have a field day.

"What you got there Harry?" Ron said, as Harry untied a bundle of papers from Hedwig's leg. Harry rolled them up. Glossy thin paper not found in the Wizarding World.

"Is that a tube map?" Hermione asked, spotting a familiar symbol.

"The Dursley's expect me to make my own way home this summer." Harry said after a moment. Hermione felt a familiar coil of anger settle in her gut at his carefully controlled expression.

"Whats a tube?" Ron said.

"Underground trains, muggles built them all under London to get around."

"Wicked, it must get smoky under there, bet the Goblins hate that," Ron said sagely.

Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it again. She couldn't be bothered this morning. Tiredness dragged at her like a hangover. She wondered if she could beg a Pepper-Up Potion from Madam Pomfrey. On second thoughts, that might get back to McGonagall. She didn't want to look like she was overusing the time-turner again. Perhaps she could get Dobby to come back with his potions case.

A long shadow interrupted her musing. The chatter around them quelled Hermione looked up into the grave face of Dumbledore.

Beside her Harry stilled, his eyes narrowed but they remained firmly on his plate.

"Mr Weasley, Mr Potter. I afraid I need to speak to you." Dumbledore said. Harry set down his cutlery and carefully wiped his figures on his napkin. Hermione could see the tendons in his neck.

"What about?" Ron asked.

"It is to do with your rat Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said.

Ron paled. Hermione patted his hand. He grasped her wrist and rose, bringing her up with him. He kept his head down, staring at the floor. Hermione looked at him, she could see the worst case scenario playing across his mind. She stepped closer, shielding his face from the eyes of the hall.

"Miss Granger can come also, if you like," Dumbledore said, his eyes kind. " Mr Potter?"

After a moment Harry stood, one hand slipped casually into his pocket. "After you Professor," he said, eyes cast down. Dumbledore regarded him for a long moment, but Harry did not look at him.

* * *

Harry had once told her that of all the teachers offices, Dumbledores was the most interesting. He was not wrong. The large domed room was full of strange, spindly devices, and the bookshelves were stuffed with fat, ancient tomes. Hermione longed to wander around touching things and asking questions, but she stayed at Ron's side as they stood before the headmasters great mahogany desk.

To the side of it was a spiraling golden perch. Harry had also described Fawkes to her. He hadn't done the phoenix justice. It curved its slender head towards the three of them. Slanting sunbeams played across its plumage and Hermione could almost see the flicker of flame. It spread it's wings. Hermione felt her breath catch as the sunlight set the bird ablaze.

Ron was staring at the floor and was not expecting it when the Phoenix decided to relocate to his head.

"Gah, get off!" Ron said, ducking. Fawkes unfurled his magnificent wings and tugged upwards. "Alright!" Ron stood upright as the phoenix settled on its new perch. Ron made a face at the bird as he rubbed his sore scalp. Fawkes ignored him.

Hermione smothered a giggle and wished dearly that she had a camera. Harry looked on with a strange half smile. His had rose, as if to touch the birds soft feathers. Fawkes' head snaked around, it's eyes fixing on his. Harry's hand dropped away.

"It's good to see you again old boy," he said softly, sadly. The bird looked away.

"Pheonix's are sensitive to pure souls, as Mr Potter found out last year," Dumbledore said, watching them. Harry resumed his study of the carpet. "Some chairs I think." He conjured them some armchairs to sit in. Fawkes hopped down to Ron's lap. It pushed its small feathered head into Ron's hands. A small smile spread across his face, but it faded as he turned back to Dumbledore.

"Whats happened to Scabbers?" he said his voice wavering only slightly.

Dumbledore regarded them over his half-moon spectacles.

"I apologise that you have been kept in the dark about your pet Mr Weasley. I would like to ask you if you have any idea who could have placed him in a Subjugation Jar?"

Mutely, Ron shook his head. "We tried to find out professor," Hermione said, "but nobody in Gryffindor would have a reason to go after Ron's pet." She looked at Harry, who sat unmoving in his chair.

Dumbledore's eyes took in the three of them for a long minute. Hermione tried not to squirm in her seat. "The unravelling of everything that resulted from you bringing your rat to Professor McGonagall can scarcely be believed, even by me. Some of them only became apparent to me yesterday when I was able to speak to Sirius Black," Dumbledore said.

"What?" Ron said. Hermione stared at Dumbledore dumbfounded. "He's just a rat! Tell me whats going on!"

So Dumbledore did.

Almost an hour later, they sat stunned in their seats. Ron was as pale as milk. He had gagged when Dumbledore had conjured up the likeness of Peter Pettigrew. Harry was grim and silent beside her. He had been even as Dumbledore had told him what had really happened in the lead-up to his parents murder. Hermione was shaking with rage as yet another tragedy befell him. It had yet to occur to him that if not for this miscarriage of justice, Harry needn't have ever live with the Dursleys.

"There's no doubt?" Hermione asked, as he stopped talking. Fawkes left Ron and came to settle on the back of her chair, she felt the softness of it's down against her cheek. It's warmth was like a banked fire, calming her seething emotions.

"-I took him in the _shower_ -"

"Very little," Dumbledore said quietly, "I have spoken to both Mr Pettigrew and Mr Black. It has become apparent that in our victory we failed out most basic principles."

"When will he be freed?" Harry said cutting straight to the chase. He looked at Dumbledore at last, his eyes shuttered. Dumbledore gave him a searching look, concern written across his face.

"The Ministry is reluctant to examine new evidence on a closed case, especially one so infamous as Sirius Black's," Dumbledore said. He held out a hand as Harry went to rise. "Which is not an answer I am willing to accept. I have summoned his original prosecutor here to discuss the matter." At that moment the fire turned green. "I should have perhaps remembered Barty's famous punctuality," Dumbledore said. He stepped forward to greet the figure in a pinstriped robe that stepped out of the fire.

"Good morning Dumbledore," the man said, brushing the soot from his robes. He looked at the three of them arrayed in front of Dumbledore's desk. His eyes traveled from Harry's scar to Ron's hair. "The injured parties I assume?" he said.

"Certainly parties that have been injured by Mr Pettigrews actions. They were entitled to know about the present situation," said Dumbledore. "Students this is Mr Barty Crouch Senior, former Head of the Council of Magical Law." Mr Crouch nodded at them.

"Is it wise to include children in this discussion Dumbledore?" Mr Crouch said. He did not look pleased by their presence.

His name sounded familiar to her. She was sure she had read it in books about the Voldemort's war. Dumbledore looked about to reply, before he could, Harry rose. "Harry Potter," he said, holding out his hand.

"Yes, I know," Mr Crouch said briskly as he took it.

Harry spoke quickly. "If I can ask your opinion Mr Crouch, now that W-Pettigrew is in custody, what do you think the Ministry's course of action will be? Considering the circumstances of Sirius Black's original conviction." His tone held nothing but politeness, but the implication was clear. Crouch's expression did not change. He looked at Harry, and for a moment Hermione thought he would refuse to answer.

"Sirius Black was never tried before a jury of his peers." Crouch said plainly. Hermione hadn't expected him to come out and say it but he did and he looked them in the eye as he did so."He was convicted on the strength of the evidence against him. Evidence that included testimony from his friends and colleges and recovered memories of surviving muggles." Mr Crouch looked at Dumbledore. "I interviewed you myself."

Dumbledore bowed his head. "And I believed him guilty."

"We put away many unrepentant Death Eaters in much the same way. I make no apologies for that. However many were the sons and daughters of great houses. Aside from them embarrassment it would cause them. The Ministry's concern will be what the overturning of Blacks conviction might start," Crouch continued as he sat in a self-conjured chair.

"That's no excuse to keep him in Azkaban!" Hermione said. Harry's face darkened. The unfairness of it burned in her gut. Fawkes pressed against her cheek.

 _I'll kill that rat-bastard if I have to break into Azkaban to do it._

Fear, rage, and the echo of Harry's voice. Hermione blinked as it passed unteathered across her mind. Then it was gone. Fawkes regarded her with one liquid eye.

Crouch shook his head. He looked tired, she thought suddenly, like an old General worn down by the minutia of peace. "The reappearance of Pettigrew cannot be ignored. Procedure must be followed. There will be an investigation, should he be found innocent, heads will roll." He didn't look like he much care whether his would be on the chopping block.

"Sirius will unfortunately have to await trial in Azkaban however I believe he will walk free at the end of it all," Dumbledore interjected, he glanced at the clock on his desk. " If I keep you any longer you will be late to class." Harry and Ron both looked like they strongly like they wanted to object but all three of them were pushed firmly out of the door.

"If Sirius' account can be verified…" Dumbledores voice drifted through the heavy wood.

"If. I have my doubts Dumbledore. Failing to murder one person does not automatically acquit him of the other twelve Dumbledore. The Blacks have always been dark, you yourself suspected him."

"I only ask advice to ensure that the proper procedures are followed…"

"Yes of course…"

The staircase started its grinding decent. The noise covering any more nuggets of information.

"I can't believe it," Hermione said, finding her voice at last. "It's insane, the whole thing is completely crazy."

"He slept in my bed!" Ron said, his voice strangled. "he's seen me change and do other…" Ron's voice trailed off as he went abruptly white.

"Do need to sit down?" Hermione said. She and Harry led him to a window ledge. Ron sank down, his eyes wide and staring. She glanced across to Harry. He was taking his devastating and life-changing news a little better. At least she hoped he was.

Sirius Black was innocent.

Sirius Black was Harry's godfather.

Hermione wished she could talk to Harry about it. She shot a look at a spluttering Ron and tried to be fair to his own state of shock.

"How can it be possible?" she said. She knew that the Ministry was not perfect, but she had granted it the same automatic trust her parents gave the muggle system. The idea an innocent person could rot for twelve years in Azakban when wizards had truth potions and pensieves shook her. The possibility of him might being left there to avoid embarrassment shocked her to the core.

"We're going to be late for class," Harry said quietly.

"Screw class!" Ron said, throwing his arms in the air. "My rat was the buggering Death Eater that betrayed your parents, and your mass murdering godfather is an innocent man! Do we not get some time to process this?"

"I don't know," Harry said, his voice even, "why don't you ask Snape? I'm sure he'll be understanding."

Hermione nodded reluctantly and hauled Ron up. "Come on, we don't want detention on top of everything else. We can loose our minds later."

"Are you two not comprehending what I'm saying? My _rat_ was a _Death Eater._ "

"I know,"Hermione said soothingly as she and Harry led him away, "How does that make you feel?"

Wizard Therapist was a profession that _needed_ to be invented.

* * *

The classroom was too warm. Professor Vector was built like a spider and was unable to bare the smallest breeze. The sun beat down on the tightly-closed windows and lanced into Hermione's aching eyes.

 _Quantifiable numerical formula is inherent in many branches of Enchantment, Potions, and Rituals. All use the rules of Arithmancy to enhance desired effects. It is often as important a component as ingredients or evocations._

Getting away from Harry and Ron to turn back for Arithmancy had been difficult. Ron was in no way over the shock that his rat was a Death Eater. She had finally slipped away when they went looking for the twins.

 _Certain numerical values and sequences are intrinsically more powerful than others. Power comes with increased instability and the frequency of significant integers require complex nonlinear equations expressed most commonly as runic diagrams._

Her head heart. Hermione resisted the urge to put her head in her hands. Now they knew why someone would want to capture Scabbers but they still didn't know who had known. She massaged her temples. She didn't want to think about how Harry had more motivation than anyone else to capture the… rat-basted. The phrase rung oddly in her head, an echo in Harry's voice. She closed her eyes against the stabbing sunlight. Trying to remember what hovered frustrating out of reach…

"Miss Granger!"

"Hmm?" Hermione emerged from her thoughts to blink up at the exasperated face of Professor Vector. She looked around at the watching class and flushed.

Professor Vector raised an eyebrow. "Daydreaming Miss Granger? That is not like you. Would you like me to repeat the question?"

Hermione looked across at Parvati, the only other Gryffindore to share her class. The other girl could do nothing but shoot her a sympathetic look. "Yes Professor, sorry," she said meekly.

Her teacher gave her a look. "For rituals and potions utilizing Georgian cycles what is the most common amplifying value when the pertinent signifier uses the Sunnandæg principle?"

Hermione thought back to the textbooks she had barely skimmed that morning. She had been so tired, she had considered pulling the curtains around and getting back into bed with herself.

"Seven?" she said. Seven was always a good bet, that or three.

Professor Vector narrowed her eyes at her. "Correct, five points to Gyffindor," she said. Parvati gave her a thumbs up. Hermione tried to listen, but her parchment remained unblemished as the words sleeted past her.

 _The numerical values used can impact the expressed potency in the end result. For example, Polyjuice Potion is potent for seven days after its creation. Ancient rituals commonly used calenderic cycles to boost primitive enchantments and evocations. The potency of these magical mechanisms should not be underestimated. Curse-Beakers have noted that Egyptian builders used the same principles that can be found in modern…_

"Miss Granger."

Hemione sat up. "Yes?" she said, hoping she had not missed another question, but the class was packing up around her.

"A word with you," Vector said.

Hermione's heart sank. She waited in front of her teachers desk until the last of the students filed out. Vector could outclass Snape when it came to intimidation. Unlike Snape, Hermione admired her. Professor Vector was who McGonagall had sent Hermione to when her questions about time travel had gotten too technical. She shifted from foot to foot as Vector shuffled today's runic graphing exercises to one side. Her failure to finish the required reading felt stamped across her forehead.

"How are you getting along?"

"Wha-pardon?" Hermione asked, thrown.

Vector steepled her fingertips and gazed over them in a very Dumbledore-like fashion. "Until recently, I felt that the time-turner was a benefit to you. You were handling you're workload well. However these past few weeks have caused me some concern."

"I'm fine," Hermione said. Vector looked unconvinced. "Really, I slept very late last night, but not because I used the time-turner. I've cut back a lot recently," She wished she sounded less like the people who came looking for pain pills at her parent's dentistry.

"Turning time can be an addictive thing, particularly when you feel overwhelmed."

Hermione tried not to panic. McGonagall didn't need much of an excuse to confiscate her device. A few concerns from Vector is all it would take.

"Yes Professor."

"The more ambitious you are, the greater the cost. There is a reason we limit it, Miss Granger."

"I know Professor, I did all the reading before they gave it to me," Hermione said meekly, she needed to find a way to reassure her. She tried to project the image of a chastised yet attentive student who was not running on only four hours sleep.

Vector's face softened. "I am just asking if there is anything that you are worried about. Time-travel can take its toll on the mind."

For just a moment, Hermione wavered. Blaming all her wretched suspicious on the time-turner was better than admitting Harry might be turning into someone she didn't recognise.

Perhaps it would all go back to normal if she just gave up the time turner.

The classroom was silent for a few beats too long. Hermione lifted her eyes. "No," she lied. "I will keep an eye out though, thank you Professor." Vector held her gaze, then she sighed. Hermione felt a little more of her credibility slip away. In her head she composed an apology.

She couldn't give it up. There were too many questions that required answers.

* * *

"Wood's looking for Harry, and he is pissed," Ron said flopping down next to her.

"Did he skip practice again last night? He's gonna get thrown off the team," Hermione said, not looking up from her reading. She had drawn up a new schedule that minimised her use of the time-turner as much as possible and she was going to stick with it.

"That's what Wood said, he's convinced Harry's chucking it in for a girl."

"What Harry? Who?" Hermione asked, raising her eyes. Ginny was sitting in one of the armchairs by the window. She had been pale and withdrawn since Sunday night, had it been Harry, rather than Neville hovering around her Hermione reckoned she would have been in an altogether better mood.

"Luna," Ron said, enjoying the look on her face.

"Seriously? She sent him to the hospital wing," Hermione said.

Ron shrugged. "Fred and George saw him sneaking off with her last night, or so they say. You never know with those guys."

"They're just stirring the pot," Hermione said. She picked up a discarded newspaper and flicked through it. Nothing new on Black, just some regurgitated speculation beneath a big article about a cursed house-fire. There was a statement from the Fudge. She turned the pages to the rest of the article.

 _Blacks so-called evidence is nothing more than attempt to weaken the foundations of post-war justice in a politically motivated attack on the present administration. We expect a swift resolution to this farce and should he be found guilty he will receive the punishment reserved for all those seeking to escape Azkaban._

Well, wasn't encouraging. Still an inconveniently alive murder victim would be difficult to dispute for all Fudges blustering.

"That's what I said, but they were sure of it. Dunno why they're sneaking about through, its not like everyone hasn't been speculating like crazy since the fight."

"Its ridiculous," Hermione said, "He's barely spoken to her since." But he made her flowers, she remembered the carefully crafted blooms by her bed.

"Yeah I'm way prettier, why should he get to find a girlfriend first?" Ron said.

Hermione smiled at him. "I'm sure you will Ron."

The tips of his ears flushed red. "Not that I want one right now, girls are a lot of trouble, no offence."

"Plenty taken," she said dryly, picking her book back up."He's had a lot on his plate lately, perhaps he just doesn't feel like Quidditch."

Ron gave her a pitying look. As if she had some deficiency in the brain. "Sure Hermione that'll be it. I don't know why we're bothering to listen to them, a few days ago they said they spotted Harry talking to Malfoy of all people."

"Really?"

"They swore to it." Ron looked troubled. " I mean he's been weird lately but I can't see him palling around with Malfoy."

Hermione wasn't so sure. Not that she'd seen the blond boy outside of lessons. She had thought about asking how his injuries were healing, but she hadn't. Acknowledging those momentary meetings felt like crossing some unspoken line and frankly, opening a can of worms she didn't want to deal with. He seemed fine, if subdued.

Not that Hermione had been worried or anything.

"Where did they say they saw them?" she asked casually.

"Seventh floor, its definitely bullshit there's basically nothing over in that corridor," Ron said.

"Yeah..." Hermione said, "nothing…"

* * *

Luna was an odd duck. Hermione knew this already, but she hadn't quite appreciated quite the scope of it until she had started asking around. It seemed her popularity had fast faded when she had ungraciously ignored the interest of her former bullies.

One thing was certain, Harry had been seen hanging around with her. This had been told to her by several people. Her casual questions had not gone unnoticed. One or two, she was sure, would decide to add a love triangle to the already wild rumours surrounding the pair.

Hermione didn't care. It's not like she was jealous. She was upset. Harry was welcome to befriend as many girls he liked. What she didn't understand is why he pretended Luna wasn't one of them.

She didn't know which of them should be more insulted.

Fred and George had told her, after much waggling of the eyebrows, that they spent a lot of time around the Whomping Willow, which would at least guarantee some privacy.

She headed out into the sunlight. The Whomping Willow stood on its own hillock, innocently trailed its fronds in the cool water. It was a deceptively beautiful spot and more than one first year had paid for trying to enjoy it. The tree's long thin branches rustled threateningly as she approached. She gave it a wide berth as she circled it. They weren't there. It was probably just as well she admitted to herself. She wasn't exactly sure what she would have done if she had found them. Jumped out and demanded and explanation like she had a right to one?

No it was best she leave it.

A rustling pulled her thoughts away, she spun round, expecting that the Whomping Willow had decided shed been standing too close.

Instead she saw Luna.

The girl was nestled in the deadly tree, the willow's fronds swaddling her up to the neck.

"Hello Hermione," the girl said.

"Are you okay Luna?" Hermione pulled out her wand. The tree reacted quickly, bowing its branches around its prey. A few, thin fronds snapped vicariously towards her. She stepped back.

"Yes," Luna said. She pushed her way out of her leafy cradle, the tree ran its leaves across her arms as if loathe to let her go, but they slid back as she walked easily over the branches. "He was just protecting me, that's what they are, Guardian Trees."

"It tries to thump anyone who comes near it," Hermione said. Then again, who else would have been mad enough to even try climbing it.

"They should have been more considerate," Luna said, stroking the rough back. "They might have made a friend." The Whomping Willow bowed its branches to the ground and Luna stepped down, the long leaves draped themselves across her like a living shawl.

"What was it protecting you from?" Hermione said, practising patience. The air of melancholy that surrounded Luna had not abated, though at least this time the deigned to speak with her.

"From myself." Gowned in green, the girl looked out at the sparkling lake. "Here the dead speak and the unborn cannot. Yet I cannot cry for them because Hogwarts stands in the sun." Something glinted between her fingers. "In this time, in this place. It is difficult to remember to be me," she said with a sigh, her hand closing.

"Oh right… " Hermione said, her voice studiously neutral. "What do you have there?"

"This?" Luna held up a band of metal, it might have been a ring, before it had been melted and twisted by some great heat. "This was my wedding band. Once upon a time. It was all we had. It came with a promise that ended the world."

"You were married?" she asked the twelve year old. She tried to hold onto that neutral tone. Luna was sad and didn't need more people mocking her. It was difficult, as much as she tried not to judge, Luna more than earned her nickname.

"I guess not," Luna said. She turned the ruined ring over and over in her hands, its dark black stone was cracked clear across the centre. "I guess now we match." Her head came up and she looked at Hermione. "I hear you have been looking for me?"

Hermione squirmed. "I just wanted to talk to you about…" Now the other girl was in front of her it seemed incredibly nosy to just ask. There was something remote about Luna, as if she was seeing you from a long way off.

"You want to know about Harry."

"I'm worried about him," she admitted quietly to a girl she hardly knew.

"As am I," Luna said. "Being here is hard, it's hard to face the might-have been with memories of what-came-to-pass. Knowing we chose when we didn't have the right." She looked at Hogwarts standing in the sunlight. "I should not turn away from what was paid but I am cowardly. So I hide. I'm sorry."

"You fought Harry." Hermione said, trying to cut through Luna's rambling to the heart of the matter.

For the first time a touch of anger crossed the girls placid face. "Harry draws outside the lines, he wins that way," Luna said to the lake and the sky. "Sometimes he needs to be reminded that some lines are not for crossing. We don't play chess with children. He should remember that we came here to be better."

Hermione was getting a headache. She clamped down on her rising irritation, the girl might be talking in circles but she did know Harry, she might know something useful. "I just want to help him."

Luna looked at her. "You have. Let him be."

"What?" Hermione spluttered. The nerve of this girl to just tell her to butt out when she was trying to help her best friend.

"It would be a kindness." There was pity in Luna's eyes and it infuriated her. She really had tried to like Luna, even though the girl's personality irritated her on some fundamental level. She knew what it was like to be an outcast and she had…

Well she had pitied her.

She was being unfair, she knew it, but Luna had touched a nerve. Everything about Harry these past few weeks told her that he no longer trusted her with his troubles. Whatever was going on he wanted her and Ron to have not part in it. She just wanted to know what she had done wrong. She just wanted to fix it.

"Thank you for your advice," she bit out. A wave of dislike rose in her. It was unfair and unfounded but it rose anyway.

Jealousy is an ugly emotion, she discovered as she looked at the girl who had Harry's confidence.

There was no triumph in Luna's luminous blue eyes, only sadness. The other girl looked out at the sun-drenched castle. "We will make it worth it in the end Hermione, we will. I promise."

Hermione walked before she said something she'd regret.

Harry had strange taste, that was for sure.

* * *

"Check."

"Bugger," Ron said looking down at the chessboard.

Hermione felt proud of herself, it was rare to put Ron on the defensive. "Where's Harry?" she said, looking around the quiet common room. They had snagged a pair of really comfy armchairs by the fire hours ago, she had been expecting him to show up.

Ron shrugged as he moved his King out of trouble. "Saw him and Neville in the library a few hours back. Looked like they were studying. They had a bunch of maps and big heavy books."

Hermione glanced at the big clock. It was close to nine. "Surely they can't still be there?"

"It looked pretty intense. I stayed well away," Ron said. He was eyeing her bishop in a way she didn't like. She double-checked every angle. "Oh, did I tell you about the letter I got from mum?"

"No, what?" Hermione said.

Ron moved a pawn, an innocent look on his face. "You remember that abandoned Wizard house that got burned down two days back?"

"The one in the paper?" Hermione retrieved a vague memory of the grey-toned flames.

"Yeah, that one. Well apparently it belonged to this really crazy pureblood line called the Gaunts. The fires not gone out and its cursed as hell so Gringotts has contracted my brother Bill, he's a curse-breaker, to come try and make it safe."

"Oh, your mum must be happy," Hermione said, staring at the board.

"Yeah this Scabbers business really shook her. The idea he was living in our house for so long. She'll be glad to have him home for a little bit. Check."

Hermione scowled. Ron had neatly boxed her in. It shouldn't sting her pride but it still did a bit. She had always considered herself pretty good at chess before she'd met him. She could resign now, but then Ron wouldn't have the pleasure of steadily demolishing her defence as she scurried for cover.

"Hey! Hey you!"

Hermione swallowed a scream as a head flickered within the flames of the fireplace.

Ron got up and squatted down by the face made of flames. "Can we help you?"

"Is this Dumbledore's office?" the head said.

"No this is Gryfindore Tower mate, you're a bit off course," Ron said. "Best try again."

"Damn, I only get one use. Still could have been worse, could have been Slytherin," The face looked familiar, but it was hard to tell. "Do you think you can run and get Dumbledore, tell him I need to speak to Harry Potter. He'll err… he'll know who I am."

Memory flickered into focus.

"Sirius Black," she breathed as the same recognition dawned in Ron's eyes.

"Yes that's me," Black said. "So wouldn't it be a good idea to run and tell Dumbledore?" He looked behind at something they couldn't see. "Quickly?"

Hermione looked at Ron. "Go get them," she said quietly, Ron nodded and scrambled to his feet.

Hermione shifted casually to her right so she was blocking the view of Sirius's head. There wasn't too many people close to the fire but it wasn't an empty common room.

"Why do you need to talk to Harry?" Hermione said, keeping her voice low.

Black looked at her. "Do you know him?" he asked.

Hermione reminded herself that he was probably not guilty. "Yeah, I'm Hermione,".

"Ahh, Harry has mentioned you."

"He has?" Hermione said carefully. If Harry had been given the chance to talk to Black since their talk with Dumbledore, he hadn't said anything.

Black stopped and looked at her. "One of his best friends." He said slowly, after a moment. He smiled at her. "Thank you for always having his back."

"Um… That's ok, he always has mine," Hermione said awkwardly. Despite what she knew, it felt uncomfortable to talk to a face she had only seen on wanted posters. "I'm sorry you're um… in prison."

Black relaxed and he smiled again. It was a charming smile for such a ruined face. It made him look younger.

"It's not pleasant, but I've got people on my side this time. Hopefully I can get out the right way, and maybe Harry…" He trailed off, something wistful in his face. "Well I'd have to get a new house first."

Hermione's heart clenched. For Harry to have a home where he was wanted and welcome would be mean everything to him. It was a testament to the awfulness of the Dursleys that she immediately assumed that this ex-ex convicted murder fresh out of prison would be healthier for Harry than his asshole relatives.

"Don't… don't bring it up, until you can be sure," Hermione said, "please." Don't promise him everything he ever wanted only to send him back to the Dursleys.

Black's face softened. "I wasn't the one too, Harry has it all worked out." He chuckled. "Don't worry though I won't stop fighting for it. I can assure you of that." His head turned in the flames, there was a muffled argument with someone she couldn't see. "How long will he be?" Black asked.

"I don't know," Hermione began.

"Sirius!" Black's face lit up as Harry flung himself down next to her. He reached his hand out, as if to touch the flames,"you're alright!"

Hermione looked up to see Dumbledore climbing through the portrait hole. Other students were looking around, but Dumbledore stopped to have a quiet word with Percy. Percy puffed up his chest and started ushering curious onlookers away.

"Harry! Um… How are you… all?" Black said, his eyes flicking up to the approaching Dumbledore.

"Doing the best we can, considering the circumstances," Harry said, his voice more measured. Hermione could see the emotion bubbling under the surface but he held together pretty well.

"Mr Black, it is good to see you, you are acquainted with Harry?" Dumbledore enquirered, his eyes travelling from one to the other.

"I wrote him a letter, nobody said I couldn't," Harry said quickly, a challenging look on his face.

"There's no time for that, they're moving me Dumbledore." Black said quickly, the mummer impatient voices leaked over his words, there was the faint echo of screaming. Black glanced back once again. "Something in the papers got the Death Eaters up in arms, Bella's been the worst, that crazy bitch keeps screaming about protecting some special responsibility. I think they're moving me back to the Ministry. Do I have a hearing?"

"None that I've been informed of," Dumbledore said, his face grim.

"We'll find out." Harry promised.

Black nodded, he looked up at his godson kneeling over him. "Hang in there Harry, I'll see you soon."

For a moment, Harry seemed very young. "We'll have you free before you know it, Sirius."

Sirius smiled. The noise behind him increased and, for a moment, a large hand was visible. Sirius mouth opened, but before he could utter a sound he was snatched away.

"I will make esquires immediately," Dumbledore said, rising from his chair. Harry sat back on his heels, still staring at the empty fireplace.

"Is it usual to move prisoners on such short notice? So late at night?" Hermione asked as she trailed him to the portrait hole.

"There has been news of late that might have reached the followers of Voldemort." Dumbledore said, pausing at the portrait hole. "It is possible that the Ministry is simply taking precautions."

"You don't think so though," Harry said his the contours of his face highlighted in flickering flame.

" A matter took me away from Hogwarts today, there may be developments at the Ministry I am not aware of. I will have more information for you in the morning."

* * *

The rest of the night was tense. Morning rolled around and Hermione watched the sun rise with resignation. She had slept a little or at least thought she had. She padded down the stairs to the common room. It was too early for breakfast, but there was always tea and toast at this time. Provided by the house elves she presumed. There had to be a kitchen somewhere then, as well as a laundry. She couldn't believe she had been blind to such things until now.

Harry was sitting where she had left him the night before, staring into the fire. Papers and books were stacked around him in messy piles. His eyes were glazed and Hermione thought he was sleeping, but he stirred the moment she placed a slippered foot on the wooden boards.

"How are you doing?" Hermione asked softly as she approached. Neville was snoring in one of the adjacent chairs, the sleep-rumpled boy must have stayed up all night to keep Harry company.

Harry gifted her with a weary smile. "Alright," he said. "Worried," he amended as Hermione gave him a doubtful look.

"Dumbledore will get to the bottom of it."

"I hate just sitting around, I should just…" Harry crumpled a crude diagram under his hand.

"Sirius wants to walk free." Neville had woken up. "Only the Ministry can do that."

"They're pulling some trollshit," Harry said, his face dark.

"We should eat," Hermione said. She didn't much feel like food, but it was better than sitting and brooding.

They were some of the first to breakfast. Hermione ate slowly, watching people trickle into the Hall. Dumbledore was not at the table, nor was McGonagall.

"Eat," Hermione urged Harry. He didn't even seem to hear her, his eyes fixed on the doors. Hermione placed a hand on his arm, every muscle was stung as tight as bowstrings.

Neville reached around and pressed a piece of toast. "The only thing you can do is prepare," he said. His quiet voice seemed to penetrate where Hermione's had not. He took a bite, and then another. Neville pilled food onto his plate. Harry ate mechanically.

"It will be alright." Hermione said. She hoped it was true.

Ron sloped in as the post arrived, his hair resembling a haystack. Hermione snatched Neville's paper before his owl had even landed. She had to subscribe.

"Steady on." Ron said as the post owl spread its wings in agitation.

She breathed out, relief rushing through her like a wave.

 **DEATH EATER RIOT AT AZKABAN!**

"See. This must be why they moved him," she said, shoving it under the boy's noses. Harry's eyes focused on the headline. His shoulders relaxed.

"Makes sense, _they_ know he's not one of them," Neville murmured, his eyes scanning the page. There had apparently been a mistake made with the Auror rotations after a ministry inspection. There been no escapes but two Death Eaters had been killed.

Neville stilled as he read the names.

 _Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange._

"Some good news at last," Harry murmured, a vicious smile growing across his face.

"They might have been criminals, but they didn't deserve to be killed when they're doing their time," Hermione said reprovingly. One prisoner had gotten hold of a wand. Hermione shivered at the sight of the dark mark hovering over Azkaban. The article was scathing about the state of security at the prison. Fudge was apparently trying to blame the Dementors.

"You're right Hermione," Neville said, his eyes fixed on the page. The mugshot of Bellatrix Lestrange stared him down, a smile playing on her lips. "They didn't get what they deserved."

There was something under those softly spoken words that made Hermione look again, but Neville neatly slid the front page out of the newspaper and folded it until it would fit in his pocket.

"Hey Hermione, turn to page six would yon?" Ron said, a letter from home in his hand.

Hermione flicked through the remains of the paper. "There," she said, showing Ron what he was looking for. The young man standing beside a smoking ruin was unmistakable a Weasley.

"That's my brother Bill," Ron confirmed happily, showing the paper to their housemates. Hermione smiled as people leaned over to take a look.

"Look, there's Dumbledore in the background. I guess that explains where he was yesterday," Hermione said, tapping a small figure staring at the smouldering house, there was no mistaking that beard.

Then she saw it.

"He manage to put the fire out. There were some really nasty curses under a runaway fire spell- what?" Ron turned when she gripped his arm.

"Look."

 **ANIMAGUS DIES IN AUROR CUSTODY**

"Merlin," Ron breathed. They both turned to look at Harry who was chuckling at something Ginny had said.

"H-Harry," Hermione said, her mouth dry.

"Yes?" Harry turned to look at her. Silently she pointed at the small article under Bill's smiling picture. Harry's face went white, his hands curling around the edges of the paper.

"There's no name." Hermione said quietly, aware they were in mixed company.

"There aren't that many animagi." Neville said, his mouth set in a grim line.

"We need to go to Dumbledore, " Hermione said. Harry was already up, and crossing the Hall. They scrambled after him as he headed straight for the stairs.

He barked the password without breaking stride. The gargoyles jumped aside. He took the stairs two at a time. The offending article crumpled in his fist.

Harry didn't knock. Dumbledore turned, a letter in his hand, as Harry burst into the office.

"Which one of them is dead?" He said, his voice barely above a snarl.

"Mr Potter-"

"Tell me Headmaster!" Harry shouted.

"Mr Pettigrew died last night, in circumstances that have yet to be attained," Dumbledore said quietly. Hermione saw the tension drain out of Harry. Dumbledore conjured a chair beneath him.

"He confessed in front of witnesses, and he was clearly alive for twelve years after his supposed death," Hermione said quickly. "Sirius still has a case."

"Quite, Miss Granger, however I just received word that a snap hearing has been scheduled for this morning. " Hermione didn't think she had ever seen Dumbledore look so angry before. "I must go to the Ministry and speak to the panel."

"We," Harry bit out.

Dumbledore looked at him and nodded. "It might do some good. We must leave now." He took a small jar of glittering powder from the mantelpiece. "Have you all used the Floo before?"

* * *

Hermione had been to the Ministry once before, to register with her parents. She had never been in the dark panelled corridors of the deep levels. Dumbledore strode through the passageways. Only Harry matched his stride, the others struggled to keep up. The corridor ended at a small atrium.

"Ahh Miss Baswick, it is good to see you, Is the Minister in residence?" Dumbledore asked the startled secretary, hardly breaking stride.

Behind her was an important looking door. Above it, in brass letters, was a sign.

MINISTER OF MAGIC

"Yes Headmaster, but he's dealing with an urgent matter, He's not to be dis-"

Dumbledore had already stepped past her to knock.

"Yes?" An impatient voice came from inside.

Dumbledore took that as a cue to open the door and stride inside. They shuffled in after him.

"Minister, Mr Crouch, I hope we are not intruding?" Dumbledore's twinkly good humour was scarier than his anger.

It looked like they were, papers and maps were strewn across every available surface. A stream ofl paper airplanes followed them inside, adding themselves to the teetering piles. Fudge looked as unimpressive as his picture in the paper. The small man wore a rumpled suit and a harried expression. He froze."Dumbledore, well we are-"

"Thank you Minister, you are too kind. I wish to speak to you about Sirius Black's case. I understand his hearing has been moved to this morning?"

Crouch pulled out his wand. The important documents folded themselves out of sight of curious eyes. Fudge pressed a hand over his eyes.

"Now is not really the time-"

"Minister I must insist, There is evidence that must be addressed, witnesses that must be interviewed, if a informed decision is to be made," Dumbledore said in his most reasonable tone of voice.

"Minister, Madam Bones is looking to or an update again." The secretary had stuck her head around the door to look worriedly at them all.

"Tell her I'll floo her momentarily."

"She's very insistent."

"Tell her to do the job she failed to do in the meantime," Fudge snapped, his secretary shrank back to her post. Fudge put his hand over his eyes. "Merlin what a mess, That will not be needed Dumbledore-"

"I would like to provide testimony, Minister," Harry said, stepping forward. He held out his hand, his smile a bit too bright. "Let me take one problem off your shoulders by helping you correct a mistake made by the _previous_ administration."

Fudge paused and looked down at Harry's offered hand.

It was Crouch that spoke. "Black's hearing was concluded half an hour ago. He's been Kissed."

Everything stopped. Hermione could hear nothing. Her blood beat a tempo in her ear. Outside of that came the muffled sounds of raised voices. She felt her legs buckle, funny she had thought that only happened in stories, and she slid down the curved wall.

Half an hour.

Just half an hour too late.

"Why?" Harry's question cut through the noise. He stood completely still, as if every part of him had turned to stone.

"He was found guilty of all charges, including the recent murder of Peter Pettigrew who was found to have died of poison," Crouch said, his eyes on Harry's face. "The Minister felt that swift resolutions was necessarily to calm the public."

Behind him Fudge nodded. "Yes, a swift resolution. Have you been reading the papers? And that won't be the worst of it. The public need to see this is an active administration. Honestly the whole thing was getting dreadfully embarrassing Dumbledore. The man-"

Hermione hated him. She wanted to scream at them until they understood what they had done. She wanted to claw the satisfaction off of their faces. How could they. _How could they._

"I want to see him." Once again Harry silenced the room. She couldn't see Harry's face, she didn't want too. Neville put a hand on his shoulder. He may as well have touched a statue.

"I don't think-"

"He has the right." Dumbledore said, his voice soft with fury.

"The will has not even been read-"

"Black can do no more harm, let the boy see," Crouch said. He smiled at Harry. "Besides, the traitor could not escape the fate he deserved. Justice has been done."

Justice has been done. The words rung in her ears. Angry voices rose around her. Dumbleore held up a hand. "Minister."

There was a knock on the door. "Minister I'm sorry but she says-"

"Fine." Fudge said. "If you insist Dumbledore. He's in St Mungo's."

* * *

Wizarding hospitals smelled better than the one her grandmother had died in. It was Hermione's one thought as she tailed the group through the white corridors.

Neville touched her arm, she focused on his concerned face for a moment. They were standing outside a ward door. She looked up.

LUSTITA SECURE WING

They stepped into silence. Sunbeams slanted through the still air and settled on the crisp white beds. The occupants lay on their backs, their hands folded neatly, their sheets without a crease.

They breathed in, breathed out.

Harry stood for a moment, as still as the bodies in the beds.

Then he walked,. His soft steps invading the silence. Dumbledore went to step forward. He stopped and looked down at his sleeve. Hermione didn't let go. She watched Harry stop at the end of a bed.

PRISONER: ƩɎ390

Sirius Black opened his eyes.

His dark eyes met Harry's. There was not recognition there, just dark windows into an empty house. His lips moved. A string of almost words and nonsense sounds spilled out. Nothing but muscle memory. Hermione gasped for breath. It felt as if somebody had punched her in the gut. Sirius's eyes moved on, alighting aimlessly on every face.

Harry stood and stared down at his godfather. His hands curled around the cast iron bedframe. "I'm sorry." The bones of his knuckles pressed white against the skin. "It shouldn't have happened this way."

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Neville moved up beside him. He placed a hand over Harry's. Harry ripped himself away. He stalked back up the ward, wand in hand. Dumbledore met his gaze.

"I trusted you."

"I am sorry."

"I don't _care_ ," Harry hissed. Smoke curled out of the end of his wand. "I believed in your justice, _again_ , and now he's gone."

Dumbledore faced him open handed, his head bowed. "I have failed you once again my boy." he said, quietly. He looked at Sirius, "Please forgive me."

Fury twisted Harry's face. His wand-arm rose. Dumbledore hadn't moved, but Hermione knew Harry was not going to stop. Neville wasn't going to be fast enough.

She stepped forward into the line of fire.

"No." Harry stood stock still as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Stop," she breathed into his ear, their tears mixing as she pressed her face into his neck. "I'm sorry, Harry." The spell sputtered and died at the tip of his wand. Slowly he folded his arms around her. The muscles in his back shuddered with every raw breath.

"I was supposed to save him."

"I know."

"It shouldn't have happened this way."

"I know." Hermione swayed, rocking her friend like a child as grief battered against them. Eventually his ragged breathing slowed and deepened. Neville came up beside her and placed a hand on Harry's back. Harry straightened up.

"I apologise Professor," he said, his face still turned away. "I was not myself."

"I understand very well" Dumbledore said quietly.

They stood by the bed, heads bowed as if it were a grave. It might as well have been.

"They can't just get away with this," Ron said, choking on the words, "they can't."

"They won't," Neville swore, has hands balled into fists.

"What happened today was a crime. I will find who is responsible," Dumbledore said. Hermione believed him, she could feel his quiet rage behind his words.

"They will pay." Harry said. He reached down and carefully tugged the blanket higher. The vacated vessel that had been Sirius Black smiled at them for the last time.

"Yes," Hermione whispered, "They _will_."

* * *

Hermione waited. Ron looked back at her as he and Neville steered Harry out of the office. Dumbledore had tried to speak with him before they left, but Harry had gone… somewhere else, and so the boys took him away.

Hermione stayed.

"I know what you are going to ask."

"It happened less than two hours ago," Hermione said, the power to change everything hanging heavy on its chain. "We could still save him."

Dumbledore sank into his chair. "I wish that were true Miss Granger."

"We could change it. He doesn't have to… to end up like that." Pale and cold and staring up at them with nothing behind the eyes. Harry looking down at his godfather, the chance of a better future stolen. Hermione's chest felt tight. It shouldn't be allowed to happen like this. The universe should rail against such injustice.

If it wouldn't, she could.

Dumbedore shook his head. "I am truly sorry, but it is not possible."

Her fists balled at her sides. "We could save him." He was right there, alive in a past she could touch with only a flick of her fingers. Dumbledore could do it, he could have found a crack in causality where perception could be maintained. Sirius might have to live as a dead man, but he would be alive. Harry could be part of a real family.

"Mr Black's Kiss was witnessed by a complete Law Court at the culmination of his trial. The Ministry knows there are many ways magic can be used to cheat justice, and they account for it."

She took a breath so she could speak evenly. "You're a Master of Transfiguration, we could go back before-"

"A time-turner can be a dangerous thing Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted gently. "It lets us think we can change what has come to pass. In truth we can only nudge the context of events. I know that was Sirius Black lying there, soulless, I cannot trick myself." Hermione wanted to shake him. "You cannot save him."

"What's the point of it then?" she shouted, actually shouted, at her headmaster. Hot tears were running down her face. She knew she was not being entirely rational. She tried to find it within herself to care. Dumbledore should be able to fix this. That's what he was _for_.

"You are not the first to rail against the inequity of time-turners. Miss Granger, nor will you be the last," he said. "We cannot have the power to break causality, even to turn back tragedy. We must move forward, however difficult that may be." He spoke from experience. Experience earned from lifetimes longer than she had yet lived and tragedies deeper than she had known. She felt like the child she saw reflected in his eyes, raging against the turn of the universe, unable to accept it did not turn on her.

Perhaps this was what growing up felt like.

She couldn't do anything about it. Their fragile, happy future gone. Erased by self-serving people and a corrupt system. Sirius was gone and Harry could never get him back again.

Dumbledore did not deserve her anger. He was telling her the truth as he knew it, as kindly and as gently as he could. He received it anyway. Sirius had depended on him, and he wasn't even going to try to save him. That she could never understand.

Hermione would break the world for her friends, causality be damned.

The common room was quiet when she got back. Everyone else was in classes. They had left three hours and a thousand years ago. They were probably excused from classes, if they weren't she didn't care. It was an effort to move her eyes around the room. She considered her favorite chair, but it was by the fire and she couldn't stomach seeing Sirius in the flickering of the flames.

"Hermione?"

Hermione startled as a hand landed on her shoulder. Neville stepped out of the shadows near the boy's staircase. Ron followed him down. He'd not said a word since they had seen St .

She tried to smile at them. "How's Harry?" She asked, keeping her voice low.

"Sleeping," Neville said.

"You got him to sleep?"

Neville shrugged and pulled a bottle of Dreamless Sleep from his pocket. "He needed to sleep."

"He won't be happy when he realises."

"He can bringing it up with me then. How are you doing?"

Hermione's smile faltered under his concerned gaze. "I don't know. I don't understand how this could have happened. In our muggle court it would never be able to have happened like that, even if Sirius somehow killed Pettigrew there should have been a defence."

Neville's face drew together. "It shouldn't have happened. Our system doesn't work like that either. Fudge must have used Ministerial powers left over from the last war to push it through, only reason it worked was nobody was about to speak up for Sirius Black."

Hermione could feel a fresh wave of helpless rage rise in her. She stamped it down, it just made her tired.

"How could Sirius have got to Pettigrew anyway? He was locked up the whole time they had him." Ron said lowly. "Somebody wanted Sirius dead, framing for Pettigrew's murder would do nicely."

"Do you think Fudge could have done it? Sirius being innocent would be a big scandal on top of the Azkaban riot," Hermione said, appalled at the thought.

Ron frowned. "Crouch would have to be in on it too. I actually believed that bastard when he said he'd push for an investigation."

Hermione had too, it seemed painfully naive now to expect Crouch help free a man he put away. "They'll likely just get away with it as well, it was probably all technically legal," she said darkly.

"I doubt that," Neville said. He passed a hand over his face. "Speculating will do us no good, we should eat,"

"I don't think I can eat," Hermione admitted.. The thought of facing the curiosity of their housemates was too much. Ron nodded, he looked as worn down as she felt. She wanted to crawl into her bed and curtain off the a world she didn't think much of at that moment. A few silencing charms and she could cry and rage all she liked.

Unfortunately Neville had a determined look on his face. "It won't feel better right away, but food will help." He smiled and Hermione knew she wasn't going to get to bed "follow me. I know something that might take your minds off everything."

* * *

Neville finally stopped before a large portrait of a bowl of fruit. They were somewhere below the entrance hall, one flight up from the dungeons. Hermione suppressed a sigh. Neville was trying to help and he was right, she was hungry. She looked around the little used corridor, she had never had a reason to come here before. As far as she knew the whole footprint of the castle sat atop a warren of lower levels mostly given over to storage and other mysterious things only to be speculated at. Boring things to do with running the castle most likely. The again the Chamber of Secrets had turned out to be real, who knew with Hogwarts?

Her attention was drawn back to Neville as he reached up and tickled the pear. A wave of noise washed over them as the portrait swung back. Hermione's mouth dropped open.

House elves. Hundreds of them, all robed in monogrammed tea towels. The kitchen was the immense. Lunch was already being assembled four long tables that mirrored the hall above. Hermione had realised Hogwarts had a silent staff of elves when she had met Dobby. She hadn't comprehended just how many of them there were. The industrious bustle of a hundred small tasks stopped as a sea of lamp-like eyes turned towards them.

None of them were wearing real clothes.

Hermione knew what that meant. She closed her eyes it was too much contemplate. Today all her rage and indignation at the injustices of the wizarding world had been wrung from her. She just wanted to eat something.

A familiar figure pushed his way out of the crowd. Dobby was easy to spot, both by his clothes and by the way the other elves moved away from him. The elf looked downcast, probably because Harry was not with them, but he dredged up a smile. "Neville Longbottom! Hermione Granger! Ron Weasley" Dobby said. "What has you come for?" Ron snorted, but kept his mouth shut, food was clearly more important than old history.

He'd got a new wand in the end anyway.

"Dobby!" Neville said with a smile. He looked completely at ease amongst Hogwarts secret slave population. Not that she was passing judgement, she reminded herself. It probably explained how he could find hot-chocolate at any given hour. Hermione frowned as the thought flitted across her mind. When had Neville ever brought her hot-chocolate? "We were hoping to eat, somewhere out of the way." Dobby opened his mouth to answer, but he didn't get the chance.

"Afternoon, I'm Spudsey, We help any students who find their way'ere," said an old house elf that looked like a yorkshire pudding in a tea-cosy hat. She had an air of authority about her. At least, a lot of the younger elves suddenly found they had work to do as she bustled up.".

"Actually Madam," Neville said, the matronly elf blinked up at him. "I thought perhaps you could let us sit in Helga's Gardens? Professor Sprout says they're worth seeing and we have had… a difficult day."

"Well. I don't think a student has asked to see the gardens since Mistress Sprout was at school'ere," Spudsey said. She looked at Neville approvingly. "You can see, Dobby, you can take them." It seemed, Dobby reserved his anti-authority tendencies for Malfoy, because he obeyed without question.

"When did my mum get turned into a house elf?" Ron whispered as the she went about organising a hamper with frightening efficiency.

"Where's Harry Potter?" Dobby said while Spudsey was distracted. "He's not with you? He's not burnt no more is he? Dobby brought him the best potions!"

"He's sleeping," Hermione said, she frowned. "When was he burned?"

Dobby's eyes went wide. "No time," He squeaked, backing away. "Stupid Dobby, talking when he shouldn't."

The elf picked up a large copper pan, only to have it plucked firmly from his hands by Neville. "None of that, Hermione is a friend."

"Yes definitely, you don't need to hurt yourself I won't ask questions," Hermione said, sickened at the thought of it. She thought she felt a vague disapproval from the watching elves.

The tunnels that Dobby and Spudsey led them through involved many steps. Hermione was sure they had moved below the dungeons. The Slytherin common room was still somewhere below, or so Harry and Ron had told her. Hagrid had led them up a similar way once before, on their very first day. She hadn't really thought much about it since.

"What are Helga's Gardens? They're not in Hogwarts, a History," Hermione asked Neville as they hurried after the two figures. Small balls of light bounced after the pair. They rolled across the uneven ceiling as if, for them, gravity worked upside down. They had to be elf-magic because she had never seen anything quite like them.

"Neither are House elves and she gave it to them." Neville said. "It's not a secret exactly, it's just a bit forgotten."

"But- oh"

Ron stopped behind her "Bloody hell."

The tunnel opened up in front of them. The cavern in front of them was bigger than any she had ever seen. Curtains of stalagmites hung from the ceiling and flowed down the walls into mushrooms of liquid stone, millions of years in the making.

Their little lights fell upwards until they reached their fellows far above. The cavern was bathed in a warm glow, as bright as the midday.

And beneath...

"How does nobody know about this?" Hermione breathed. The floor fell away in stages, like a subterranean mountainside, until it reached lakewater. Somewhere, out of sight, was the little underground harbour all first years docked at. Everywhere that could be cultivated, was, green spilled out of every carefully tended terrace. Some of what was growing looked like it ended up on the plate, some into the cauldron.

"Did you think about where your food came from, before today?" Missy Spuds asked, eyebrows raised, "or did you just assume it appeared by magic?" She had Hermione there. She hadn't thought of it, even though theoretically she knew it couldn't. Food just happened.

"Come this way," Dobby said. "I knows a good place to sit."

They walked up narrow, elf sized steps. House elves looked up from their gardening. Hermione raised a hand self consciously. The elves here wore no real clothing either, but the assortments they wore seemed to have more style and individuality than the uniformity of the tea towels. They waved back, wide smiles on their faces. Still being here felt like trespassing. Nestled between the tiny terraces were homes that had been shaped from flowing stone. Without magic it would take a million years for dripping water to make such structures. She wondered if it had been Helga, or the elves who had learned to grow their houses like they grew Hogwarts' food.

"Do you keep animals here too?" Hermione asked, wondering if there was a slaughter house somewhere she had also missed.

The old elf chuckled. "No Miss. Long ago, sheep and pigs were kept on the grounds, now the meat is brought in. We have chickens and we fish sometimes, when the little boats are not in use."

"All this, and yet we never see you?"

"Of course not," Spuds said with some pride, "Most students don't even know we're here. We have been here a thousand years, we have had a long time to practice."

Hermione reached up and plucked an apple from a tree groaning with fruit. She looked up where the sky should be. It was utterly… utterly magical, and yet..

"But you cannot leave?"

"A house elf needs a house Miss, and we have the best in the country." There was an edge to the old elf's words, Hermione felt she was treading on sensitive ground.

She should probably leave it. "But you're not free," Hermione said, despite herself, watching a trio of little elf-children peek out of a doorway, each falling over the other to simultaneously see and hide.

"We are owned by Hogwarts, as it should be, most of us descendants from the first elves brought'ere by Mistress Hufflepuff. A house elf is not meant to be unbound." Spudsey said in a tone that closed the conversation.

"But you could be sold-"

"We could not." Hermione blinked as the elf cut her off. "Mistress Hufflepuff left us to Hogwarts. We are bound to the school, not to its headmasters or its teachers. It is our duty to serve and protect our home." Spudsey smiled, showing her teeth. "It is polite to obey."

"Oh, that doesn't sound like a normal house elf contract," said Hermione, looking towards where Dobby trailed quietly behind the boys, his large eyes unfocused.

Spudsey followed her gaze. "It is what they were. Little by little, Wizards take more." She shook her head, "them elves from outside, they don't know how much until they come here. I don'ts approves of Dobby's choices, but I understands the whys."

"It's not right." It was so easy to reroute her rage at the Ministry. She remembered those elf-kids, falling over themselves to see them. She remembered Dobby's face as he picked up the frying pan.

"It's a bad business." Spudsey said, "But good for Wizards. They'll not listen to house elves."

"Perhaps you're not shouting loud enough." Hermione said. She took a bite out of her apple.

Spudsey smiled. "Perhaps."

"Have I managed to distract you?" Neville asked as they settled down for their subterranean picnic. Dobby had chosen a lovely spot, they were surrounded by flowers, most she recognised from potions though thankfully none that were poisonous. The terraced gardens cascaded down to the dark water. For a moment, grief speared her anew, but the view was too breathtaking for it to find a foothold. Her mind was already working, filling the space where sadness should be with an injustice she could maybe do something about.

"You did," she said. Neville smiled at her, and for the first time that day she found herself able to return it.

"It's bloody amazing is what it is." Ron said loudly, drawing a few, pleased glaces from passing elves. "I don't even think the twins know all this is here."

"They've not been past the kitchens." Neville said to Ron's evident delight.

Dobby sat at the edge of the group, kept there by Spudsey's departing instructions. Hermione still dearly wanted to question him about Harry, the memory of last time made the words stick in her throat.

"Are you okay?" She settled for, praying he wouldn't immediately start harming himself. This was definitely not one of her skills, but the small elf looked so downcast,

"Is Hermione Granger wanting to know about my health?" He asked, his voice soft with disbelief.

"Of course," Hermione said brightly.

"Of course Hermione Granger, a good and kind friend of Harry Potter would's want to know," Dobby said, his voice rising. Neville looked back, but Hermione waved his concern away. "It's nothing, Hermione Granger, I's just worried about my friend, I goes visiting but they's not coming to the door." His big ears drooped. "When something is wrong with a house elf nobodies knows, nobodies cares."

"You guys should form a union," Hermione murmured, an idea taking shape in her head.

Dobby tilted his head. "What's a union?"

They ate and they talked, stepping around the subject of Sirius and Harry like it was a sore tooth they didn't want to disturb. Without meaning too, they filled themselves back up with laughter and living. Slowly, Hermione felt like she could breathe again. She looked across at Neville, who was smiling as he listened to Ron as he recounted some quidditch match. He always knew what to do when it felt like the sky was falling.

Time moved forward.

* * *

Whispers followed them as they left the tower. Hermione felt Harry tense as students turned their heads to watch them as they went by. Beside her Neville frowned at anyone rude enough to point.

They had come late to breakfast. A cluster of irritated-looking owls descended on Neville as he sat down.

"Is it your birthday or something?" Ron asked, as they tucked in.

Across the hall, Luna stood up and started towards them.

Neville shook his head. He looked just as confused as they were. He passed her the paper as he pulled cards from the owls legs. Hermione didn't want to open it. The self-serving coverage of Sirius's Kiss would be difficult to stomach. The whispers were not abating. Neville was sliding the first card from its envelope. Hermione took a breath and flipped open the paper.

 **AZKABAN BREAKOUT! BELLATRIX AND RODOLPHUS LESTRANGE ALIVE AND AT LARGE!**

Sirius was not even on the front page. The pictures of the two Death Eaters that had been declared dead in the riot stared up at her once again.

 _In a shocking turn of events. The Ministry has announced that Death Eaters Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange are escaped Azkaban two days ago. The bodies formally identified as the pair were discovered to be Azkaban guards, Sally Salaclaw and Brandon Middan when the transfiguration failed in the early hours of the morning._

 _The Ministry advises the pair, convicted of torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom to insanity, are extremely-_

Hermione stared at the words until they blurred on the page. Neville had never spoken about his parents. Not once. It had never occurred to her to ask why. Neville was looking at the first of the cards, his face completely blank.

 _Tortured to insanity._

"That. Bitch." Harry breathed, his whole being coming into focus as he stared down at the page. "How?"

Luna was in front of them now. She ignored Harry and carefully avoided Ron. "Neville. Come."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see McGonagall headed straight towards them. Neville nodded. He carefully gathered each card of condolence and stood, his food untouched.

* * *

A cold breeze tugged at their robes as they stepped out onto the ramparts. Neville finally stopped walking. He placed his hands on the stone and gazed out over the sparkling lake. They had followed him, since he had not tried to stop them. Now they hovered uncertainly in his wake, not sure if they were wanted or welcome. Nobody tried to break the crystallizing silence.

After a long moment, he breathed out and turned around. "Okay Hermione, give me the paper."

"Are you sure?" she said, hugging it to her as if she could shield him from the truth.

"Yes." Neville found a smile for her. Apologies crowded against her lips but Neville's face stopped her cold. He didn't need their pity. This was an old wound. Ripped open and exposed to the world. He would get enough prying as it was, he didn't need it from his friends.

 _Tortured to insanity._

There were no words for something like that.

So she said, "are you okay?" and handed it over.

"Not really, but I will be"

Luna withdrew her wand and diverted the tugging wind around their party. Neville took out his. The newspaper hovered in front of them. The statement from the Ministry was a masterclass on weaseling out of responsibility. Fudge blamed the Dementors, the Aurors, a lack of guards. He claimed his administration would swiftly resolve the issue.

He used Sirius as an example.

Then she knew. "That's what Fudge was dealing with when we walked into his office. He approved Sirius's Kiss just so he could look good when it came out that they'd escaped."

They stared at each other. Hermione didn't know fury could feel so cold. The pettiness of it took her breath away.

 _How could he?_

"He'd do it, Dad said he was on thin ice politically," Ron said after he ran out of offensive names to call the slimy, wandlicking, trollwanking pile of flobberworm-shit.

"That might be the case, but that doesn't explain how they escaped or how that rat-bastard ended up dead the morning before," Harry said, He turned abruptly and placed his hands on the battlements.

"Would Fudge really murder a prisoner?"

"You mean apart from the one he already has?" Luna stepped up beside Harry and placed a hand in his shoulder.

Hermione pushed back a spark of hurt. Harry was probably about ready to bite anyone's head off. "It just doesn't seem his style, he had Sirius Kissed…" The world legally stuck in her throat but the set of his shoulders told her he'd heard it anyway.

Luna's hand stopped Harry rounding on her. She breathed something into his ear and a little of the tension drained from his body. "I think he could be persuaded to no ask too many questions about a prisoners sudden and convenient death," Harry said, his voice carefully controlled.

"Related or not, the question is, how did they get out?" Neville murmured in almost a clinical tone, his eyes still skimming the article. "They're not animagi."

"Pettigrew is though, what if he didn't die, what if he faked his own death and escaped? He's done it before," Hermione said, refocusing on Neville.

"Yeah, but from beneath the noses of the entire Ministry? And how on earth would he manage to break out people from Azkaban?" Ron said, shaking his head. "That's going to take more than a finger."

"What if he just got them a wand? Would that be enough?"

"It would be for Bella," Harry said, his eyes dark with fury. "He'd have to get there though."

"There was a surprise inspection by the Ministry, the afternoon of the riot," Neville said pointing to a paragraph his face as calm as the lake sometimes pretended to be. "Fudge cites it while he's making excuses. If he hitched a ride..."

"He would need to escape his cell, leaving behind a convincing crime scene complete with body, he would he manage that?" Ron said.

"There are plenty of former Death Eaters working high up at the Ministry," Harry said darkly. "Lucius Malfoy for one."

"Yeah My dad says that too," Ron said, "but nobody has tried to break anyone out of bloody Azkaban. Why do it now? They've been banged up for over a decade!"

Luna touched Harry's arm. They shared a look that didn't include the rest of them.

"Speculating will do us no good." Harry said. Hermione could see the doors closing behind his eyes. "McGonagall is definitely looking for Neville, we should save her the trip." He looked at Neville, who nodded slowly. "Luna your class is on the way right? Tell Sprout I'll be late guys."

Hermione stared at his retreating back. For a little while, terrible as it had been, it had seemed like she had the real Harry back, the one who didn't keep secrets from her. Now he was closing the doors. Shutting her out. It hurt more that Luna was allowed inside.

* * *

Neither Harry nor Neville turned up for class. Hermione was glad. She viciously beheaded a Lyre Rose as Pansy recounted the details of the Longbottom attack in a low gleeful voice.

"Steady," Ron said quietly, placing a hand on her wand arm.

"She's foul." _Snip._ She wasn't the only one. The details of the Death Eater's crimes were hot gossip all over school. Bellatrix in particular appeared to have a long list of horrific crimes to choose from. Beneath her shears, their bush gave out an agitated whistle.

"You can't be there for your mates if your sitting in detention for hexing that sow's face off," Ron said in an uncharacteristic display of maturity.

Hermione eyed the sniggering group and then looked towards Professor Sprout, bustling along the rows, out of earshot. Behind them the Slytherin table bubbled with nasty laughter.

She casually knocked her quill to the ground.

It drifted under their bench. She crouched down and quietly pulled her wand from her sleeve. When she was sure nobody was looking. She shot a violet spell across the uneven floor.

It hit Pansy on the ankle.

"AND I HEARD THAT SHE MADE FRANK LONGBOTTOM WATCH AS THEY TORTURED HIS WIFE UNTIL HER MIND BROKE AND THEN-" Pansy clapped her mouth shut, her words still echoing off the glass walls.

Professor Sprout whipped round, her normally amicable face white with fury. Neville was a particular favourite after all, Hermione thought with a little grin.

"Miss Parkinson would you like to explain why you are using my class to gossip about tragedies in such a disgraceful manner?"

"Someone cursed my voice, Professor!" Pansy protested, looking around with her narrow piggy eyes.

"Oh? Were you hit with a thirteen year old's imperio curse and forced to say those things?" Pansy spluttered something unconvincing. "Perhaps a month improving our compost heaps will improve you Miss Parkinson."

"But that's house elf work!" Pansy wailed.

"Without magic, would you like two months?"

Pansy shut her trap and glared at Sprouts retreating back.

Hermione smiled into her roses. Ron stared hard at her.

"What?"

 _Snip._

When Sprout was a safe distance away Pansy rounded on the sniggering gryffindors

"Laugh it up, the Dark Lord's most loyal followers are out, how long do you think before he comes for people like you." She directed her glare at Hermione. Which Hermione considered unwise considering she was holding about a foot of sharpened metal.

"Knock it off Pansy." It was the first words out of Malfoy's mouth all class. The Gryffindors blinked at him in surprise.

"Draco." Hermione rolled her eyes as Pansy's voice immediately turned syrupy sweet. "You should be proud of your relatives that fought to keep our culture... Untainted."

Immediately all eyes swiveled back to Malfoy who looked at Pansy with narrowed eyes.

"My parents denounced my aunt then and this morning in the paper. Your father did likewise, if they supported the Dark Lord of their own free will they would be in Azkaban. Are you publicly refuting their established position on the matter?"

Pansy gaped at him. Malfoy ignored her as he turned back to his Lyre Roses, they were humming like hornets. Slytherin's didn't seem to know whether to be annoyed that he broke ranks or impressed by his reasoning.

It did, very effectively, shut Pansy up. That she was willing to treasure. She wasn't sure quite when Malfoy had grown a brain, but it sure gave her hope for the future.

Beneath her hands her Lyre bush gave out a distinctive wolf-whistle. Hermione froze. Parvati caught her eye across the classroom. Quite deliberately she let her gaze wander from Ron to Malfoy. She cocked an eyebrow.

Hermione scowled at her, which only made the other girls grin widen. She didn't dare to turn to face the Slytherin benches.

"Figures they'd be related," Ron muttered, thankfully oblivious, though apparently not quiet enough.

"Find me a pureblood in Britain not related to a Death Eater Weasley," Malfoy drawled without looking up. Their wizard-born classmates suddenly found their roses absolutely fascinating. Ron closed his mouth with a snap and settled for glaring at the back of the blond boys head.

"Really?" Hermione said, curiosity getting the better of her.

"My father's cousin, she died in the first war," Ron mumbled. "We don't talk about her."

Hermione looked around, they had chosen a bush at the far end of the pruning area. Safely out of earshot. "Do you think Scabbers could really be alive?" she said keeping her voice low.

"I think I'd believe just about anything when it comes to that rat," Ron whispered back, "but I can't see him managing it alone. After all, he chose to spend twelve years as a rat rather than just move out of the country or something."

"He doesn't seem the brightest," Hermione agreed.

"Besides, any Death Eater still loyal to You-Know-Who is more likely to kill him than help him aren't they? After all, it was his information that got You-Know-Who banished by Harry."

"I don't know. What I do want to know is how he got captured in the first place," Hermione said slowly. The words came out reluctantly/ There had been no time to think on it, and frankly she didn't want too.

Ron looked around carefully, everyone was bent over their plants. "Do you think it could have been Harry?" Hermione closed her eyes as if that would block out the conclusion that had been staring them in the face since Scabbers had been revealed. He must have caught look on her face because he went on hurriedly. "It's just if he knew somehow, that Scabbers was Pettigrew, he would have more reason than anybody to want him captured."

"But that jar..." Hermione could see Scabbers, suspended in her mind's eye, his little limbs twisted to the point of pain. "That was torture."

Ron looked uncomfortable. "Yeah I know, but, well, Pettigrew is the reason Harry's parents are dead and why Sirius was in Azkaban. I'm just saying, he'd have a lot of motivation. If it were me and I found the person that got my family killed… I dunno what I would do."

"But if he found out about Scabbers why didn't he tell us? We could have taken him to Dumbledore. That means he let you think something awful had happened to your pet for weeks." It wasn't as bad as the Subjugation Jar, but it felt worse, more personal.

Ron gave her a look. "I'm not sure if you noticed Hermione, but Harry hasn't exactly been open with us for a while now."

"Why?" Hermione whispered, "what did we do?" Because that was the question she really wanted answered. Not what Harry was up to, but why he had stopped trusting them.

"He must have a reason," Ron said, but there was an undercurrent of hurt in his voice. "A good one."

"Oh really? What?" Hermione took a breath, she wasn't angry at Ron and he didn't deserve her snapping at him. "Even if this wasn't him, he's sneaking around, keeping secrets from us…" She wanted to mention Luna and the way she seemed to understand this new, strange Harry, but even in her head the note of jealousy rung clear.

"I know, but well, he has the right to not tell us things if he doesn't want too."

"So you think we shouldn't even ask him?"

"I'm saying now might not be the best time to confront him, he lost his godfather two days ago. I'm not over that yet… The way he looked lying there." Ron shivered, though the greenhouse was as warm as a summers day.

"You're right," Hermione said reluctantly, and he was, for all she didn't want to admit it. "Harry's still a mess on the inside. He needs us there. Neville too now."

"Yeah, for now at least," He looked around. "Harry should be here by now surely."

"It's probably better that they're not."

"Yeah, Pansy is going to say something to him, I can see it in her little piggy eyes," Ron said, scowling at the sniggering table.

Hermione put down her shears. "I'm going to get some more compost, you know, before it needs refilling," she said, just loud enough to be heard from the Slytherin table. Along the bench, Parvati smothered a giggle. Pansy glared at her. Hermione made sure to smile sweetly back. It was petty, but it made her feel better.

The greenhouses that contained Hogwarts collection of magical fauna were vast structures of metalwork and glass, even bigger on the inside than they were on the outside. There were tales of students lost forever amongst the dangerous pathways of the seventh year glasshouse. Hermione walked between the mature trees. Some bent towards her, trailing their long vines along the ground. There was nothing truly deadly bedded in greenhouse three, but you still had to tread lightly.

She stepped around an innocently placed vine, because she did the spell only glanced off the shoulder.

Still it sent her sprawling to the ground, all the breath in her body knocked out of her. An unpleasant giggle came from behind. She rolled and struggled to rise, her right side suddenly numb and useless.

"Not so smart now are you, mudblood." Pansy had followed her. She stepped out from behind a tree, her wand trained on Hermione's face. Hermione looked back along the path but they were out of sight of the rest of the class. "I know it was you. Not that it matters, Sprout can assign all the detentions she likes, the Lestranges will find the Dark Lord, and when he returns people like you will be shown your place."

"Oh where's that?" Her wand was tucked in her left pocket, Pansy could curse her five ways to Sunday before she managed to free it. Thank god Pansy was the gloating type. "Because right now its ahead of you in every single subject."

Pansy's face screwed up in anger, she stepped forward until her wand caressed the tip of Hermione's chin. "You think you're so clever, but do you really think true wizards want you around to pollute our world?" Still holding Hermione at wandpoint she fished her wand from her pocket. "You don't even deserve this. I wonder what would happen if it just… snapped?"

10 3/4 inches. Vine Wood, Dragon Heartstring. Hermione could still remember the fierce rush of joy when her wand had chosen her, Hermione, a lonely little girl who up until that very moment had still expected someone to tell her that it as all a mistake, that she was not a witch, that she would have to go home.

"What can a pathetic little muggle like you without her stolen magic?" Pansy hissed, her face not an inch away. Hermione could see the petty malice dancing in her eyes. Perhaps she should try and understand the recycled bigotry, carefully handed down from generation to generation. The poison that led to a coddled girl glorifying the murder of innocent people for the crime of existing. Perhaps.

She didn't though, because Pansy had her wand.

The only thing attractive about Pansy was her long dark hair, it fell in a dark waves down her back. Behind her, unnoticed, was a collection of their last Herbology assignments, looking quite agitated by all the noise.

" _This._ " Hermione shoved her bodily backwards and dove for the wand that span out of her hands.

Pansy fell backwards, her mouth opening in silent surprise as she landed amongst the snapping Admorusus flowers.

 _Snipsnipsnip._

* * *

"Wow Hermione, you make enemies like a craftsmen," Ron said, his voice full of admiration as he dabbed dittenly on her grazed forehead. "First Malfoy, now Pansy? Do you want the whole of Slytherin house after you?"

"She was just being dramatic, she can grow it back in a week tops with the right potions." Parvati said, laughter bubbling up. "The way she was screaming you would have thought she was being murdered."

"She shouldn't have threatened to snap my wand," Hermione said.

"Besides, I don't think you need to worry about Malfoy, did you see how fast he ran when he heard the scream?" Hermione felt herself go red and glared at Parvati when Ron wasn't looking.

"Heh, I'm sure Pansy felt having Malfoy rush to her aid was almost worth loosing all that hair," Ron said.

Hermione avoided Parvati's speculative gaze as she packed away her things. Malfoy had helped the hysterical girl detach herself from the irritable flowers and led her, limping and cursing, away.

Just not, well… first.

* * *

She told herself it could have been worse, it could have been Lavender who had seen, or god forbid, Ron.

Neither of the boys turned up for the rest of Friday's lessons, the news must have gotten around because no teacher asked for them. Hermione suspected they were hiding with the house-elves, she hoped so, they could rest there in those wondrous gardens without being bothered. She thought about asking Dobby, but it felt too much like intruding.

If they wanted time away Hermione could respect that, even if it hurt a little.

The castle still hummed with rumour and tension. It could be felt in the clusters of students and the whispering of the teachers.

"They seem more afraid of these Death Eaters that Sirius." Hermione murmured she and Ron headed back to the tower.

"Sirius was only 'revealed' as a Death Eater at the end of the war. The Lestranges were well known psychos," Ron said, "They killed a lot of people, muggles and wizards, before they got to Neville's parents."

"Pansy said they'd go looking for You-Know-Who," Hermione said.

"She might be right, Bellatrix is a fanatic as well as a nutter, she might have killed one of my uncles in Voldemort's war."

"Really? I'm sorry."

Ron shrugged. "Nobody knows for sure, but that's what my mum thinks, he was part of this group that resisted Voldemort and he got caught, my other uncle died trying to get him out."

"I never knew." Hermione tried to find the right things to say.

"You would be hard pressed to find a wizarding family who didn't loose people in the war, and now some assholes are stirring it all up again," Ron said scowling, "and idiots like Malfoy and Parkinson are spouting the same old bullshit like its some kind of game."

Hermione remembered Pansy's face, twisted with inherited hatred at her very existence. It seemed so… so stupid, and it was, but it was dangerous too. The war was a thing to be read about in history books. It was easy for her, who had stepped into this world only a handful of years ago, to forget how recent the scars were. But it lurked there, under the surface, ready to bubble up in a new generation.

How much would it really take for the killing to start again?

"Malfoy hasn't said anything like that, at least not lately,"she said, probably unwisely.

"Yeah? Well maybe he's just grown smart enough not to mouth off about it, don't you remember last year? _Enemies of the heir beware, you'll be next mudbloods_."

"Well its an improvement anyway." Hermione knew there was no point in arguing, she wasn't even sure why she was. He might have gotten a touch more civil, but he'd not gotten any more pleasant to be around.

And yet there had been genuine panic in his eyes when he'd found her sprawled on the flagstones struggling to pick up her wand with numbed fingers.

 _People change._

Ron would call her naive, but she wanted to believe him. If only to see that this cycle of pointless hatred could be broken.

* * *

"Get up, Ron wants you."

"Gruhhhfup."

Hermione snaked a hand out from under the covers and snatched her wand from her bed-side table. Only the smallest breathing-hole let the frosty air into her cocoon of warmth.

"I'm going to levitate your blankets," Parvati threatened. "And stick them to the ceiling."

"Are you sure you shouldn't be in Slytherin?" Hermione grumbled.

"If I had been Pansy would have ended up with a haircut much earlier, get up. Now hurry up or I'm gonna drink your tea."

Hermione opened one eye and stared balefully at the steaming mug in Parvati's hands, she groaned and whispered a spell. Her lovely warm blankets wrapped themselves around her, cutting out every inch of cold air. She sat up. In a magic castle, there was no reason for there to be frost on the _inside_ of the windows panes.

"You look ridiculous."

"Well I _feel_ warm," Hermione said, sticking her tongue out. "What does Ron want?"she asked, reaching for the mug-of-life.

"Dunno, maybe he found out about your secret affair with Malfoy."

Hermione choked.

"Ha! I knew it, that boy fair sprinted when he heard that scream and it sure wasn't for Pansy." Parvati laughed, her dark eyes dancing.

"Shut up, its nothing like that," Hermione mumbled into her tea. Parvati raised an eyebrow. "I helped him one time when he was hurt, he probably felt like he owed me." She was _not_ going to mention the bit where he was shirtless in the library.

"If he did, it means Draco Malfoy grew a conscience when I wasn't looking," Parvati said. "If you go out with him it will be the most Romeo and Juliet thing to happen at this school ever."

"You have a disturbing imagination," Hermione informed her. "Besides your wrong, he'd have to go out with Ginny for that."

"Oh Merlin," Parvati cackled. _"Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Hogwarts where we set our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny-"_

Hermione threw a pillow at her.

* * *

Ron as waiting at the bottom of the stairs, the Prophet under one arm and a fresh steaming tea in the other.

"What took you so long? Come one, we're having a Weasley breakfast."

"A what?"

Ron grinned at her. "You'll see."

He wouldn't tell her, whatever she tried, and she kept on trying until they stopped in front of an unremarkable stretch of wall. Hermione looked around, suspiciously unremarkable, considering it broke the regular pattern of doors on both sides of the hallway.

The twins might have know about the house elves below, but they knew almost ever nook and cranny above.

"Now what?" Hermione asked, trying to hold onto her patience. She was hungry, so this better be good.

Ron smiled, and knocked.

"Password?" came a voice inside after Ron had completed a choreographed set of knocks and whistles.

"Must I?"

"Do you want to turn purple the moment you step over the threshold?"

"Fine. _Ron Smells_."

The statue creaked open and sunlight poured in. It was only a covered balcony, or at least it had been before it had been expanded to the size of a small classroom and furnished with undoubtedly pilfered pillows and low tables. To one side was the twins 'experiment bubbling ominously away. It should have been cold, Only a low parapet separated them from the long drop to the lake below, but the twins had rigged up some kind of air-barrier. Experimentally, Hermione put a hand over the balcony, then snatched it back as the cold winds bit her fingers.

"Welcome to the Secret Council of the Weasleys," Maybe George said grandly. All the school-aged Weasleys were there, even Percy, and set before them was a veritable breakfast feast. "You are honored to be the first outsider to set foot in out hallowed hall."

"Except for Angelica,"

"And Katie,"

"And probably Penelope." The twins laughed as Percy went red.

"I had no idea this was here."

"That's kind of the point," one twin said. "We don't usually let outsiders know the exact location but Ginny and Ron vouched that you won't snitch."

"If you do we will, naturally, make your life unbearable." the other said good naturally. Hermione believed him. She looked over at Ron and Ginny, both looked pleased as punch to be letting her in on their family secret. Hermione felt something warm fill a void she hadn't known had grown so large.

"Come on Hermione, stop gawping and tuck in," Ron said.

Hermione smiled and did just that, the food was warm and good. It seemed the twins had some pull with the house elves. Simply being included, being trusted, felt so nice, she thought as she looked around. For all their squabbling, when something happened to one of their own they closed ranks like a redheaded trap.

Finding out the family rat was a Death Eater would do it.

"Did you guys build this place?" Hermione asked once they had eaten their fill.

"Nope, sort of, inherited it." One of the twins said. "You can look around if you want to, just don't do near the cauldrons."

She did want to, there was a lot of interesting junk piled up against the walls that looked like it had been there longer than the twins had been at school. A calender from the 70's was permanently stuck to the door, the phases of the moon carefully marked in red.

She picked up a dusty magazine. "Magical Mechanics?" A leather clad girl giggled at her from atop a strange looking motorbike.

"Much more illegal now unfortunately," George said with regret. "Not that that stopped dad."

A flicker of movement caught her attention. In one corner was stacked a number of empty paintings, long since abandoned. "Hey… I know him." She said, pointing at the glimpse of green. "He's from the seventh floor."

"Trolly? He's been hanging around here for nearly a month, Normally we don't let paintings stay here, too gossipy, but he's alright. He doesn't like leaving much." Her painted troll shrank back through the canvases and regarding her with one worried eye. His tutu was looking more bedraggled and he had lost his tiara.

"He didn't find his friends then?" Hermione asked, feeling sorry for him.

The Weasleys shook their heads. "We keep an eye out, but they might have been burned up from that fire," one twin said. "Wish they'd find who was accountable for that already, so McGonagall could stop interrogating us over it."

Hermione avoided everyone's eyes as she sat back down. "Have you seen Harry or Neville?" she said instead.

"Nope, their beds have been slept in, but they were gone by the time I woke up," Ron said. "Can't say I blame them, the Prophet is still full of dragondung about Sirius and the Lestranges." He pushed the wrinkled paper over to her. Hermione felt her happy mood evaporate as she read the headings, the editors had compensated for the lack of news with dubious sounding sightings, speculation and lurid descriptions of the Lestranges many many crimes. Fudge was quoted all over, pushing the blame on whoever he could in increasingly shrill language.

"Crouch is keeping quiet, while Fudge twists in the wind," Hermione muttered, turning over the page. The leftover food faded from the table top and a teapot appeared in its place.

"He's smart, he lost a lot of power after the war, or so dad says. If he can continue to dodge Dumbledore he'll be well positioned to push for a leadership role."

Hermione blinked. "Thanks Percy," she said looking up at Ron's brother who was reading the paper as avidly as she was. Ron had said he had taken the news about Scabbars particularity hard, but then it had been his rat first. "He's dodging Dumbledore?"

"He's dodging everyone," Percy said with a sniff as he poured everyone a cup. "Taking a health break, its hogwash of course, the man has never taken a day off in his life. But if he times it right he can come back with all the solutions and none of the blow-back."

"Percy is feeling disillusioned." One of the twins whispered in an exaggerated fashion. "He rather admired the old boy before all this."

"It's dirty dealing, something I thought Mr Crouch was above," Percy said. "Excuse me, I have some reading to do," he got up and left to the sound of the twins sniggering.

"I'm surprised he keeps this place secret," Hermione murmured as the prefect left.

"Percy has a healthy sense of preservation," the other twin said with an evil grin, "Besides, he likes it up here too much. Though he'll never admit it." Suddenly the gentle bubbling coming on the cauldrons rose in pitch. "Bollocks, excuse us one moment." The twins darted off to prevent calamity.

"It's not right they keep writing about Neville's parents." Ginny said with a scowl as she scanned the article with her. "Just because it sells papers. That Skeeter women should be ashamed of herself. I can't believe I used to like her books."

"It's all a bunch of fearmongering trollshit, look here, there been sightings of the Lestranges from the cliffs at Polzeth to the that burned house Bill put out." Ron said, rolling his eyes, "she's just trying to fill space with whatever she can find, even the Quibbler wouldn't print this. To think, they started this mess and now they're profiting off of it."

"What do you mean? Hermione said.

"Don't you remember?" Ron lowered her voice, so only she could hear, " That night with the fire, Sirius said Bellatrix was going mental over something in the paper."

"I didn't think they got papers in Azkaban."

"They don't get wands either, yet one way or an other, Bellatrix got hold of both."

"It could have just been an excuse to start a riot." Hermione said, "Then again… it could have given her a reason too."

Ron shrugged, turning back to his back food. "It's impossible to know exactly what a nutter like that will be after. The Lestranges were rich and influential, not that they can get at their vault right now without breaking into Gringotts. They probably have more than a few allies that would help them on the quiet. The Malfoy's for one, no matter what they say to the papers."

"Uh Ron, mind coming here a moment?" perhaps Georges voice sounded a touch strained.

"You alright there?" Hermione asked, a little worried.

"Completely, completely, enjoy your tea."

"How is Neville? I've not seen him since yesterday," Ginny said, looking a little hurt at being left out of their whispered conversation.

"Neither have we," Hermione admitted. "Probably staying out of the way of all this."

"Can't blame them, if you see him make sure he's alright won't you? He was so kind to me after… you know," she looked down.

Hermione felt a stab of guilt, So much had gone on in the last week she had had hardly a moment to think of Ginny and her nightmares. "Are you doing better?" She asked in a low voice. Luckily her brothers were occupied.

"I've not had another episode," Ginny said softly, "but I just can't seem to shake it. The sound of dripping water, the smell of stagnation and rotting flesh." She shivered, drawing her knees too her. "Someone else walking my body where I don't want it to go."

"It does sound horrible." Hermione said, suppressing a shudder, "Have you talked to anyone about it?"

"I don't want too, mum talked about pulling me out of school last year. I can't have that happen. Neville taught me how to put up silencing wards so I won't wake anyone if it happens again , so that's a relief."

"He's good at taking care of people," Hermione said. It didn't sound like a long term solution to her, but now was not the time to push.

"And bad at letting anyone take care of him,"Ron said, finally tuning back up, sans eyebrows, "we should look for them."

"You really think so?" Hermione said with a show of reluctance.

"Yup, if he wants us to piss off he can tell us, come on."

"You can't come up here!" Ron protested as she followed him up the stairs to the boys dormitories.

"Yes I can, it's in _Hogwarts a History._ "

"That is so unfair," he grumbled as the stairs failed to dump her back at the bottom. The boys dorms were empty save for all the clothes strewn about and the lingering smell of old socks that apparently even magic could not dispel. Ginny hovered in the doorway, as if expecting a disapproving McGonagall at any moment.

She wandered through, curious despite herself. Neville, it seemed, kept a tidy bed, all his things packed neatly away. Ron's looked like a bomb had gone off. Harry had a stack of heavy tomes piled up on his bed-side table. Hermione raised her eyebrows at some of the titles.

 _Ξόρκια και Γητείες για Εξορύξεις, Μεταλλουργία και Ανασκαφές_

"Don't look at me, Harry does some weird bedtime reading these days," Ron said looking around.

Hermione picked up the pamphlet that lay atop the books. It was the map of the underground that the Dursely's had sent him. Neglectful assholes that they were. She flipped it open.

"They didn't even bother to send him the proper map." Hermione said, irritated. It wasn't the tube map most muggles were familiar with, the simple amalgamation of coloured lines that had little to do with the actual geography of London. This one was far more complicated, the stations actually put where they really were located.

"It looks confusing, I reckon floo is better," Ron said, wandering over.

"That's odd." Hermione murmured, "Leister Square is circled. Its the closest stop to Diagon Alley," she added at Ron's blank look.

"Maybe he plans to make a stop before the Dusleys lock him up again," Ron said, "I think I know where they are. Harry's Firebolt's gone."

He went to the window, in the distance, four specs could be seen flying high above the Quidditch Pitch.

* * *

It was a lazy Sunday, and students were still emerging from the hall after a late breakfast. A group of older Slytherins hurried by, muttering to each other. Hermione frowned at their retreating backs, wishing that everyone could find something else to talk about.

They weren't the only ones, she tried to be understanding. Everywhere there were students looking pale and frighted, it was worrying news for more than just Neville and he was probably far from the only person at the school who had had family members killed by the duo. The Prophet was making good money by reminding everyone of that fact. She just wished Neville's story wasn't the one used to satisfy the wizarding world's morbid curiosity.

"This sucks," Ginny said fiercely, "its almost as bad as last year. I don't want to be afraid anymore."

"Then we won't be," Ron said, he slung an arm around his little sister, pinning her to his side. "Its not like they can get us inside of Hogwarts. If they, ever did I'd fight them off for you Ginny-kins."

"Geroff me." Ginny said, wiggling out of his grip, her face red. "You are so embarrassing sometimes, like you could take on a bunch of Death Eaters."

"I'll have you know helping thwart You-Know-Who is practically an annual tradition, whats a few piddling Death Eaters?" Ron said, striking a heroic pose. "I could nobly hold them off, allowing the females time to escape." He then ducked hastily to avoid a thumping from his sister.

"Merlin save me," Ginny said, but she was smiling again. Sometimes Hermione thought a teaspoon might be a _slight_ underestimation of Ron's emotional range.

They met Harry and Neville as they stepped back into the Great Hall, their windswept hair confirming where they'd been.

"Hey," Hermione said, keeping her voice as neutral as possible, "Been out for a fly?"

"Needed to clear out heads, sorry Ron," Harry said, "I didn't want to wake you."

"No worries, you probably wouldn't have been able too. I sleep like the dead," Ron said just a bit too cheerfully. Hermione could sympathies, especially when Luna stepped out from behind the pair.

"Somethings happened," Luna said, looking around at the scattered students trading gossip behind their hands.

Hermione frowned. "There was more stuff in the paper about Neville's parents this morning," she said, "ignore them."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"They're not looking at us," Luna said.

Harry and Neville were looking around, suddenly weary. None of the students spared them so much as a glance. Another huddle of Slytherins came out of the great hall. They looked shaken. Students from other houses turned to watch them pass.

"Is that Parkinson?" Ginny said. It was. The girl was weeping softly as she was led away by a group of older girls.

Harry's face hardened, he spotted Susan Bones, standing with some of her housemates. "What on earth is going on?" he asked her.

The girl turned, her face pale.

"Were you not at breakfast?"

"No"

"Then you didn't hear about Malfoy's parents."

Hermione felt herself go cold. "What happened?"

The girl looked near hysteria. "They strung them up, their own blood... If they'll do that to family, what will they to those who stood against them? My aunt prosecuted them, she's the reason they're in Azkaban to begin with."

Harry took hold of her shoulder, the girl came back to them. "Who did Susan?"

"The Lestranges. Malfoy Manor is burning. The Malfoys are dead."


End file.
